A Country Courtship
by octoberdog
Summary: A painful and scandalous past sends Sookie Stackhouse fleeing New Orleans for the solitude and quiet of the English countryside. Vowing to never love again, can Sookie resist the the charms of the undeniably dashing Eric Northman? AH/OOC historical drama.
1. Atlantic Crossings

**A/N: Hi all! This story is set in the English countryside during the Regency Period. I adore Jane Austen and thought I'd try to apply the style to SVM. Hopefully you'll enjoy what I do. The story is AH and slightly OOC, but I will try to stick to the canon as much as possible. It's mainly Sookie and Eric, but several SVM favourites will make an appearance. I have also borrowed a few character attributes from True Blood. Rating is a T but may go up to an M in later.**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belongs to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One: Atlantic Crossings<br>**_

_**The Atlantic Ocean, 1811**_

The billowing sails cracked overhead. Sookie breathed in the tang of the salt air. The wind ruffled the edges of her bright blue bonnet and tugged playfully at her long skirts. She looked out over the sea in great contentment. It was the first time that she had ever sailed the ocean, but it held no fears for her. She had discovered in herself a love of the endless expanse of moving, rolling water, the crash of the waves against the bow of the ship, the sting and taste of the spray on her face. Since the day the _Adele_, named after her beloved grandmother, had left the safety of New Orleans, Sookie had experienced a sense of freedom she had never felt before. In setting foot on the _Adele's_ deck, she had left her cares behind her.

A shadow fell across her and she turned her head to find her brother, Jason Stackhouse, standing beside her at the rail. 'I should have you get your parasol, you know,' he remarked with a grin.

'Fiddlesticks! What do I care if I become as brown as you are? I won't have Mrs. Bellefleur and her ilk whispering behind my back in England,' said Sookie with a toss of her long blonde hair.

Jason's smile faded. 'I'm sorry you're still bothered by that, Sookie. I had hoped being on the sea would help you to forget.'

Sookie tucked her gloved hand into his arm. 'Oh, Jason, it has. I only mentioned the old cats because I was just thinking how free I am at this moment. The ocean is so vast and beautiful that one is quickly aware how small one's problems really are.'

Jason looked out to sea. There was a sense of love and wonder in his expression. 'Yes, you are right about that, sis. I wouldn't trade my life at sea for anything in the world.'

'How fortunate, then, that you have become a wealthy ship owner. Our uncle could have been a prominent farmer instead of a sailing captain and had no understanding of your passion for the sea,' said Sookie teasingly.

Jason grimaced at the thought. 'I am indeed lucky. When Uncle Bartlett offered to back me in the _Adele_, I knew that at last my dreams were to come true.' He looked down at his sister. 'I hope that you'll also find your place someday, Sook. I don't need to tell you how worried I've been about you.'

Sookie laughed. Her blue eyes warm with affection for him. Jason could be selfish at times, but he had always strived to be the best of brothers, growing from the mischievous and often impulsive boy to the strong and capable man that he is today. They've always been close, but since their grandmother's death last year, their bond is unbreakable. She loved him fiercely, and he her.

'You don't need to worry about me, Jason Stackhouse. I'll come about, never fear. Indeed, I think that the moment I broke my engagement I started feeling like myself again. When I look back on it, it was the mistake of my life to ever agree to marry William Compton. We would never have suited and how I could have thought otherwise, well, is beyond me. Bill wished me to be someone I could not be. And as for the resulting scandal, why, I never garnered so much attention in my entire life!'

'It is not the sort of attention that I could wish for my baby sister,' said Jason a shade grimly.

Sookie squeezed his arm. 'It's done with, Jason. And by the time I do return to New Orleans there will have occurred something far more interesting than my transgressions for the old cats to talk about. So do, pray, put it all out of your mind. I assure you, brother, I have!'

'You have always had the trick of turning to the sunshine, sister,' said Jason. Sookie laughed and kissed his cheek, then promptly diverted his attention to a pod of dolphins leaping beside the ship. The subject of Sookie's recent unpleasant experience as the center of malicious gossip was dropped and by silent agreement was not referred to again.

A day outside of England the American merchant ship _Adele_ was hailed by a cutter flying the British colors. With little ceremony the British ship signaled intention to board the _Adele_. Mindful of the cutter's guns, the Americans acquiesced. As an oarsboat ploughed the waves towards the _Adele_, the passengers on deck shifted uneasily, murmuring. Since the Congressional renewal of the Non-Intercourse Act against England, the British had become more vigorous in its harassment of American vessels.

Susannah Adele Stackhouse, also known affectionately as Sookie, watched apprehensively as the oarsboat tied onto the _Adele_. 'Jason, what do you think they want?' she asked.

Jason Stackhouse's expression was grim. 'Nothing good; you can count on that, sis.'

The Americans watched silently as the British came aboard. Six British marines formed a guard for two officers. As the British seamen marched smartly up to the small knot of passengers, Sookie slipped her hand onto her brother's arm. His fingers covered hers with a reassuring squeeze.

The slighter of the British officers stopped with a hand resting casually on his hip. The marines flanked him with guns at the ready. The officer looked over the _Adele's _passengers with an unpleasant smile, his gaze stopping on Sookie's voluptuous form. Sookie shrank back, moving further into Jason's side.

'Good afternoon,' he said in a lascivious tone, giving Sookie a heated gaze. 'Beautiful day, is it not?'

'Damned puppy!' Sookie dared not turn her head to locate that low growl. She was too busy gripping Jason's arm, desperately trying to keep him from throttling the British officer. The passengers about her stirred, relaxing slightly. Someone coughed, hiding laughter.

The officer tore his gaze away from Sookie, and scanned the assembled crowd, his lips tightening as he heard the soft chuckles. His chilly eyes searched for the source of the voice.

'What can we do for you Captain…?' asked Jason, his Southern drawl thickening, his voice hard. Sookie knew that tone of her brother's and she glanced up at his deeply tanned face. It seemed carved from the hardest oak, giving nothing away.

The officer's mouth relaxed into a patent sneer. He locked his hands behind him and rocked on his heels.

'Wexler. Captain Barnard Wexler, at your service, sir,' said the officer with exaggerated courtesy. 'I regret to say that this vessel is found to be in violation of the Orders of the Council, which forbid trade with France. The vessel is therefore placed under seizure and is to sail to a British port for impoundment,' he said.

Stunned silence greeted the officer's pronouncement. Sookie winced as Jason's fingers tightened painfully on hers. Then a babble of protest arose. 'France! We've not been to France, sir. This is preposterous!' 'You can't seize an American ship. This is outrageous!' 'Damned, bloody blackguards, the lot of you!' 'Jason, can they do this?'

A high quaver rose clear of the loud confusion. 'We are on our way to England, sir, not France!' snapped Mrs. Thomasina Winters. Beneath her wide shading bonnet, her eyes flashed with ire and her ample bosom heaved with righteous indignation. She had to tilt her head up to meet the British officer's eyes.

The officer looked down his long nose at the old woman. He drawled condescendingly, 'So you are, Madame.'

A broad middle-aged man shouldered his way to the front. 'This ship is neutral, sir! Parliament's laws have no bearing here.'

The man's deep voice held a growl that the officer recognized as the one that had called him a "damned puppy". The officer's voice was cold. 'This ship will go quietly or suffer the consequences.' He nodded out to sea, drawing attention to the ugly snub noses of the British cannons. The sight sobered the knot of passengers. Sookie saw the helpless anger in the grim faces around her and in some, fear. As for Jason, his stony expression had not changed. Only his eyes betrayed his rage.

The British officer smiled again. Contempt narrowed his eyes as he swept a glance over Sookie and Jason. He addressed his subordinate officer over shoulder. 'Mr. Griggs, how many hands are we lacking?'

'Two, sir.'

'Ah, yes, that was it.' The officer's eyes roved over the American sailors, who were bunched loosely against the rail. His voice took on an exaggerated note of surprise. 'Mr. Griggs, I believe I have discovered deserters from His Royal Majesty's navy! Two, in fact.'

'Aye, sir!' Mr. Griggs made an abrupt hand movement. The British marines advanced on the American sailors, who had stiffened but continued to stand immobile in front of the threatening British rifles. Two sailors were herded away from the others towards the side where the British had boarded. One of the sailors had chanced to meet Sookie's gaze and she was appalled at the fear shining in his eyes. She recognized the seaman, who was really just a boy. Young Tommy Mickens had entertained all on board with his merry accordion. A marine nudged him roughly with a musket butt and the sailor stumbled past her.

'No! You cannot do this!' Sookie exclaimed. She hardly felt the warning pressure of Jason's hand on her shoulder as she stared straight into the British officer's surprised face. 'You have no right to impress our sailors. These men are American citizens and under our protection. You can't do this!'

There was a murmuring of support amongst the passengers of the _Adele_ and a restive movement toward the men holding the American sailors. The British officer flicked his hand in command. Sookie's breath caught as muskets were trained on the passengers. The moment was suspended. Tense fear curdled the air.

The British officer's gaze passed indifferently over Sookie's shocked face to settle on Jason, who stood close behind her with his hand still gripping her shoulder. The officer's voice was clipped, meaningful in tone. 'Your wife is admirably soft-hearted, but her pity is wasted on these deserters. It is futile to interfere in the King's business.' He started to turn but stopped at the sound of Sookie's voice.

'You, Captain Wexler, are no gentleman. You are a coward, masquerading as a man of honor!' Sookie spat, no longer able to hold her temper.

'Susannah! Enough!' Jason chastised, tightening his grip on her shoulder and shooting her a look of warning.

The officer turned his gaze to Jason, hatred clear in his eyes. 'I have run men through for lesser insults. If I were you, I would muzzle her, sir. Anything can happen to a woman at sea.'

'Is that a threat, Captain?' Jason asks with barely concealed rage.

'Threat? No sir, fact.'

Jason clenched his teeth. 'To what port will you escort us, Captain?'

'To Southampton, sir. You will not be inconvenienced long, I trust. There is adequate lodging to be had, as well as transport,' said Captain Wexler smoothly. He bowed, then turned on his heel and, followed by his subordinate, strode to the side of the ship. After the officers had disembarked, the American seamen were prodded over the side into the waiting oarsboat. Within moments the _Adele's_ passengers had the deck once more to themselves. They crowded to the rail to watch the oarsboat pull away. Jason and Sookie stood together, as one in their anger and frustration. Sookie's slim fingers were tight on the wooden rail as she watched the forlorn American sailors in the oarsboats grow smaller with the increasing distance. The event had been awful enough, but she was shaking with the realization of what might have happened. She briefly closed her eyes and saw again the ready British rifles.

'Well, lad, a bad ending for your first voyage,' said a gruff voice. Sookie turned her head. The middle-aged man who had openly protested against the British officer's pronouncement stood beside them. His eyes were on the American sailors, who could be seen climbing reluctantly aboard the British vessel. He sighed regretfully. 'Aye, a bad business, for those men especially. Nothing to be done, poor lads.'

Jason, too, stared out over the sea at the swaying British ship. He grasped the rail so tightly that the tendons stood out white on the backs of his hands. 'There is nothing to be done now, I'll grant you that. But once we get to Southampton, we shall see.'

Sookie looked at Jason worriedly as the gentleman beside them chuckled at the strong purpose in the younger man's voice. Shrewdly, he measured Jason's hard expression. 'It will likely be a hopeless cause, lad. But you've a look of determination that I like. Therefore I am with you.'

Jason turned to eye the gentleman. He knew from the passenger list and the infrequent conversations that he had held with the gentleman that he was an Englishman by the name of Calvin Norris, recently retired from trade and now returning to the land of his birth a very wealthy man. At his searching look the older gentleman chuckled again. 'Aye, lad, I know. What can a man like myself do? But I've influence of a sort. It is yours when we touch land.'

Jason's face lightened with a dazzling grin. He held out his hand and the two gentlemen shook hands. 'I thank you, sir. Any aid that you may give me will indeed be welcome.'

Sookie added her own expression of gratitude. 'You are most kind, sir. My brother and I truly thank you.'

Mr. Norris' eyes twinkled at her. 'You are a young lady of backbone, Miss Susannah.'

'Please, call me Sookie.'

'Well, Miss Sookie, you've got spirit. I admire that quality in a woman.'

'My sister's sense of independence has always been a source of pride for our family, but I have never been prouder than when she spoke up on behalf of our sailors. No matter how foolhardy,' said Jason, placing his arm around his sister and grinning widely.

'Aye, it was bravely done,' said Mr. Norris with a nod.

'Perhaps, but my bravery seemed close to bringing disaster upon us all,' said Sookie with a shudder.

'Aye, the insolent dog had the audacity to threaten you! To threaten all of us!'

'Make no bones about it, Mr. Norris, I shall not let that go unquestioned, I promise you. Captain Wexler and I _will_ meet again,' said Jason, his gaze frosty as he turned his eyes once more toward the sea. Sookie glanced back at the British cutter. It followed the _Adele_ like a great winged shadow, its prow dashing spray.

The _Adele_ landed at Southampton on the rugged Hampshire coast. The green harbor was surrounded by hills, but Sookie thought Southampton itself was run down, ugly and too industrial. Houses crowded the shoreline and their steps were overgrown with seaweed, while the tide washed at their foundations. Sookie's opinion was further colored by the outrageous treatment afforded the _Adele_ upon docking. Customs officials swarmed over the ship to ransack every cabin, spilling out the contents of every barrel and chest and box in their search for contraband. Surplus stores especially liquor, were confiscated.

Jason Stackhouse could do nothing but stand by while his ship was summarily stripped of everything of value by the Duties officers. Calvin Norris stood beside him, once even reaching up to squeeze his shoulder in sympathy. 'Don't worry, lad. We'll have our day.'

The _Adele's_ passengers were set ashore and the small band took a subdued leave-taking of one another before separating for their individual journeys.

Sookie and her maid, Tara, took rooms at an inn that looked fairly respectable and then embarked on an exploration of the town. The people in the streets were ruddy-cheeked and well-fed. Many of the men were wearing uniforms of the volunteer regiments to which they belonged, reminding Sookie that England was a nation at war. As for the women, they wore extremely thin gowns and their shoes clattered on the pavement as they walked.

'Why, Miss Sookie, I ain't never seen such gowns! It's almost enough to make one blush,' exclaimed Tara Thornton, unable to tear her eyes from the shocking sight. Tara, who'd been Sookie's maid since they were five years old, was a dusky-skinned beauty, with large brown eyes and curling black hair. She'd been born to one of the female slaves and the overseer on her parent's old plantation in northern Louisiana. When Adele Stackhouse died last year, Sookie moved to New Orleans to live with her brother and brought Tara with her.

Sookie looked over at her best friend and confidante. 'Indeed it is, Tara,' said Sookie, equally fascinated by what she saw. She stopped outside a dress shop and exchanged a glance with her Tara. As one, the women entered the shop, giggling.

Under the guidance of Calvin Norris, Jason set in motion an official protest. His goal was to have the charges of illegal trade dropped and to regain possession of _his_ cargo, as well as free his two impressed crew members. Jason was met with cynicism and indifference; but he learned quickly that it was otherwise with his ally. When Mr. Norris made known his identity and mentioned those in certain circles with whom he had influence, he was treated with swift deference. Therefore, the protest lodged by the unknown American shipowner Jason Stackhouse was given unusual priority in high quarters.

Jason was soon caught up in the tangle of bureaucracy and he realized that the struggle would take longer than he had anticipated. Though he and Sookie had taken lodgings at the same inn in the quayside town, he rarely saw his sister. Hew was aware that she was made restless by the enforced inactivity and he was also uneasy Sookie was alone, save for Tara, in a strange town.

One evening as they sat over a late dinner, he spoke his thoughts aloud. 'I believe that it would best suit both of us if you were to go on ahead to our cousins. It would stop me from worrying about your safety so much and you'll have something better to look forward to than another dull day.'

'Oh, Jason, I can't abandon you. Besides, I wish to know the outcome of the whole tedious business. I can't very well do that if I'm with our cousins. And I have Tara with me, so it's not so bad. We've been doing a fine job keeping ourselves busy,' Sookie said. Even as she protested, though, the thought of leaving the dull, ugly port city held appeal for her.

Jason thought he could read her thoughts fairly well and he pressed his advantage. 'Come, Sookie, there is the post. I promise that I'll write to you everyday so you'll know all that is happening. It will be as though you never left. The only difference being that you will not be obligated to stare at these same four walls while waiting for me to come in each evening. You can't convince me that it pleases you to kick your heels while I am about on business.'

Sookie laughed and shook her head. 'I don't deny that the patient role _does not_ suit my nature. Fine, I'll do as you suggest and go to our cousins.'

'Good. I'll make travel arrangements for you and Tara in the morning,' said Jason. He leaned back in his chair and with an unconscious sigh. His face settled into tired lines.

'Poor Jason. Is it going so badly, then?' asked Sookie sympathetically.

Her brother shook his head. 'It is going slowly. Damned slowly. However, without Calvin's help it would have been an impossible task to even be granted a hearing. But eventually I think we shall bring it off exactly as I hope.'

'And with your troublesome sister safely ensconced in the English countryside, you may concentrate fully on the struggle,' Sookie teased.

Jason laughed, a genuine laugh, the first for many days. He stretched out his hand to her and lightly clasped her fingers. 'Thank you, sis. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

The following morning Jason put Sookie and Tara into a carriage. He had had second thoughts about the wisdom of sending two defenseless women on the journey to Hardgrove Chase without himself for escort, for he had been hearing for days of brooding unrest in the countryside due to the long economic depression, and there were disturbing stories of rioting amongst the unemployed. But at breakfast when he had voiced his concerns, Sookie pooh-poohed him. 'Fiddlesticks, Jason! I assure you that I am now determined to leave this damp place and nothing you say shall stay me,' she said, drawing on her gloves.

'You're right, of course, dear sister. As a shipowner I should demonstrate more firmness of purpose, should I not?' said Jason smiling.

He had been somewhat cheered by his sister's lack of hesitation. Sookie could be trusted to keep a cool head on her shoulders. And, of course, Tara was there to temper any impulsiveness on Sookie's part.

Tara. Jason looked over at the raven-haired beauty. She caught his gave and smiled sadly, causing his heart to squeeze painfully. Jason Stackhouse had loved Tara Mae Thornton since she was ten and he thirteen, but knew nothing could ever come of his love for her. Mayhap love was colorblind, but society, unfortunately, was not. There was no place in this world for Jason and Tara's love. Jason tamped down his feelings for Tara and locked them away deep inside him.

Sookie noticing the shift in her brother's demeanor, squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture. She was not blind to her brother's feelings for her friend, but there was nothing to be done. Society's dictates would never allow a happy ending for these two.

'We must leave, Jason,' Sookie said softly, looking down at her brother.

'I don't like you and Tara traveling alone, Sookie. Perhaps there is someone we can engage to act as an escort,' he said.

'We'll be fine, Jason. Besides, what would I do with an escort?' asked Sookie scornfully. 'I am hardly one of those helpless ladies who swoons at the slightest excitement. I'm a Stackhouse. Between us, Tara and I will be able to handle whatever may arise.'

He laughed, acknowledging that it was probably true. 'Still, I am sorry that I can't accompany you myself. But I won't know anything for certain for several days yet. In the meantime, we must do all that we can for Tommy Mickens and the other seaman.' Jason's eyes turned suddenly cold and his jaw hardened. 'As for the cutter's commanding officer, our good Captain Wexler, we have some unfinished business.'

Sookie, knowing what a hothead her brother could be at times, squeezed his fingers. 'Jason, do not do anything foolish.'

'Sookie, I can handle it. That son of a dog will pay for his insolence.'

'Now you listen to me, Jason Stackhouse. You _will not_ put yourself in danger. You're all I've got left in this world and I won't lose you to something as idiotic as a duel! Let the law do its job. We will win, Jason. I know it in my heart. We have right on our side. As soon as I get to Hardgrove Chase I shall tell our cousins of our misfortune. They are part of _le bon ton_ and as such will know someone with influence. I may yet be able to add a persuasive voice to the fight.'

Jason nodded. He suddenly grinned. 'I know you find it difficult not to be able to help. Perhaps at Hardgrove Chase you will find a way to do just that.'

Sookie smiled at her brother. 'I'm a Stackhouse, Jason. Could I do anything less?' Impulsively, she reached over to kiss his lean, brown cheek. 'I love you, brother. Goodbye and good luck hunting!'

Jason stepped back from the carriage, signalling the driver. 'Goodbye, Sook, Tara.'

A whip cracked and the chaise jerked forward. He put his hand to his mouth and called. 'And Sookie, just think before you leap, will you?'

Sookie wrinkled her nose and waved. She knew he was remembering her near tragic impetuosity on board the _Adele_. 'I will, Jason! I promise!'

The carriage gained speed, its iron tires clattering over the damp cobbles. Jason watched the chaise until it disappeared, sending a silent prayer up to Gran to watch over Sookie and Tara.

_**What did you all think? I did a lot of research before posting this story and I wanted to make it as authentic as I could. I know there was no Eric, but he will definitely make an appearance in the next chapter. Next up: Arrival at Hardgrove Chase, we meet the cousins, Mr Northman makes an appearance**_.


	2. Rocky Beginnings

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and alerts, they were very much appreciated!**

**I would like to address a concern that one of the reviewers brought up which I think is perfectly valid - that of Tara's status as Sookie's slave.**

** First of all, I would like to state that I do not condone slavery on any level! However, I do want the story to reflect the stark realities of 19th century America and England. Slavery was very much alive and well in both countries in 1806 and Sookie is from the deep south and comes from a well-to-do landowning family. It would have been completely unrealistic for her family not to own slaves. The abolitionist movement was in its infancy and I do not believe that Jason and Sookie, growing up in rural northern Louisiana would have had a lot of exposure to abolitionist text. **

**Now, I do realize that I am writing to a modern audience so while Sookie does own Tara, she does not view her as property, but as a friend and family member, which was quite a common relationship dynamic between a mistress and her maid.  
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**That said, I have decided to make Tara a freewoman who chose to stay with Sookie and Jason. And her reasoning behind this choice is touched upon in this chapter and will be further developed in later chapters. I hope her explanation will ease some of your concerns about her status. **

**Again, thank you so much for all of the wonderful feedback. I will try and email each of you a personal thank you!**

**So, without further ado, here is chapter 2. I hope you all like it!  
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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 2<em>****_: Rocky Beginnings _**

**_Hardgrove Chase_**

As Sookie traveled through the open countryside she was awed by the beauty of the hills, clothed in brown and green, in an endless undulating line. The carriage passed farms and villages that were remarkably neat and in good order and the inns that she and Tara rested at were comfortable and clean, staffed by courteous and obliging servants.

The stone walls and fields of Hampshire eventually gave way to the high hedges and deep rich soil of Surrey and eventually the beauteous glory of Kent. The country cottages were thatched in varying shades ranging from the gold of ripe wheat, gray, taupe, russet and rich brown, to the older, weather beaten, and smoke-stained roofs of darkest brown and several oast houses could be seen across the verdant fields. Sookie knew from her cousin's letters that Hardgrove Chase was located outside one of these small villages. Through the months Hadley's correspondence had contained several lively descriptions of the quiet Kentish district in which she lived, so that as the carriage neared its destination, Sookie began to recognize landmarks. She pointed out the window. 'There is Hever Castle, Tara. Isn't it magnificent?' she exclaimed, smiling as she recalled all that Hadley had brought to such vivid life with her pen.

'A real castle, Miss Sookie?' Tara replied breathlessly, poking her head out of the carriage window. 'I never thought in all my days that I'd get to see a real castle. I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful in all my life.'

'Even more beautiful than a bayou sunset?' Sookie teased.

'Well,' Tara replied, 'nothin's as beautiful as a bayou sunset, but that castle sure does come close.' Tara looked over at Sookie and smiled in a bewildered fashion. 'We sure ain't in Bon Temps, Miss Sookie, that's for certain.'

Sookie nodded her agreement and the two women continued to stare out of the window, taking in the sights, as the carriage ambled closer to Hadley's village. Three respectable manor houses distinguished the outer reaches of her cousin's village. The first, Langdon Hall, stood about two miles from the entrance of the village. The Hall had once been the site of many entertainments but now rarely saw visitors since the last scion of the house was a reclusive gentleman who, according to Hadley, preferred puttering in his garden amongst his rosebeds and his dove cote.

It was not that Sir Giles Langdon rejected the society of his fellows; if someone called to extend an invitation, he usually accepted in a vague sort of way. But the moment that his visitor was out of sight, he promptly forgot the point of their conversation. However, there was always hope amongst his persistent neighbors that Sir Langdon would take the notion, as he occasionally did, to attend the various amusements in the neighborhood. After all, Sir Giles Langdon was a young man, not above thirty in any case, and judged to be fairly well-favoured in countenance and build. He was also the owner of Langdon Hall, a proud house established during good Queen Bess' reign, and that must be counted for something by the parents of marriageable daughters.

The village was typical of those that Sookie and Tara had seen during their journey. The carriage rattled over the cobbles in the streets and quickly left it behind.

The second manor house on the outer bounds of the village was Rookery House, inhabited by Mr. Henry Price and his beautiful sister, Clara. Mr. Price's friends and acquaintances could not exclaim enough over Miss Price's violet eyes, her red rosebud mouth, and her handsome figure; but they received only an indifferent shrug and cynical laugh from Mr. Price. Better than anyone, he knew that his sister's uncommon beauty clothed a nature both restless and capricious. He had ducked too many hurled missiles and been the target of too many tirades to subscribe graciously to his cronies' reverent opinions.

Nevertheless, however much he decried his sister's temper, Mr. Price did harbor some sympathy for her. She knew herself to be wasted on the gentleman in the neighborhood and looked higher for her place in life. And well she might, had declared Mr. Price more than once. Clara Elizabeth Price was the prettiest piece the county had ever seen. Given the right entrées she could easily snare herself an earl or even a duke, at the very least a baronet. But titles of that sort were not likely to turn up in such a sleepy district.

As for Miss Price, she ruled what was offered with a high hand. As far back as she could remember, gentleman young and old had catered to her every whim, spoiling her and encouraging her to rely on her sweet beauty to gain whatever she desired. As a consequence, at the age of one and twenty, Miss Price was a spoiled, haughty young lady, bestowing her smiles and frowns with capricious want of thought or compassion. She was inevitably surrounded by a court of admirers and if she ever felt the lack of female friends or companionship, none could have told it by her devastating progress through the district's society. Miss Price easily overshadowed her peers and when her violet eyes beckoned, the other young ladies despaired of retaining their own admirers' fickle interest.

Sookie looked for the young squire's house, but it was too closely hidden by trees for her to catch sight of it. But her greater curiosity in Hardgrove Chase soon overran this disappointment. She knew from Hadley's letters that the squire and his sister were the Savoy's nearest neighbor and she pressed close to the window for her first glimpse of Hardgrove Chase.

Hadley and her husband had come to Hardgrove Chase but ten months previously; having inherited the property from an eccentric relative. Hadley had said nothing much was known of the ornery old man to whom Hardgrove Chase had belonged except that he was a man who detested society of any sort after the death of his wife and infant son. Mr. Niall Brigant had steadfastly refused every invitation extended to him by his neighbors. One of his more stout-minded neighbors had once dared to call on him and had been sent packing. Upon being questioned by the curious, he had aptly described Mr. Brigant as 'a cranky, very bitter, and decidedly unpleasant gentleman'. When the old man died there was much speculation about what would be done with Hardgrove Chase and by whom. Some thought the estate would simply go to rack and ruin; others wondered if Mr. Brigant could possibly have left the house to an animal society, for it was known he had a fondness for cats and horses. Eventually it was learned with astonishment that Mr. Brigant had a distant relative, a young army officer by the name of Remy Savoy.

When the Savoys took possession of Hardgrove Chase, the entire neighborhood held back to see if they were anything like Mr. Brigant. But Remy and Hadley Savoy were discovered to be a delightful couple and their young son was variously described as 'a mischievous young devil', 'quite intelligent, though perhaps a bit too indulged', and a 'regular right-un'.

Hadley had confided in her correspondence that she had been appalled by her first tour of Hardgrove Chase. Mr. Brigant had kept most of the two-hundred-year-old house closed up with only a minimal staff, since he did not entertain. As a result, the estate was somewhat tumble-down and in need of much improvement. Fortunately, Remy had inherited a sizeable sum along with the estate upon Mr. Brigant's death, and combined with his own independence and Hadley's dowry, was able to make all the improvements necessary for Hardgrove Chase to reclaim its title as one of the finest homes in the Kentish countryside. Hadley had assured Sookie that when she did visit them at Hardgrove Chase, she would find all the comforts of home and more.

It was late afternoon when the chaise drove up the winding drive of Hardgrove Chase. Sookie could scarcely contain her excitement and curiosity. She had not seen Hadley since they were both girls and though the cousins had remained close through the years by letter it was vastly different to be able at last to meet Hadley's husband and her small son.

'I don't know what I shall say, Tara,' she exclaimed as she caught sight of the substantial stone mansion ahead. Built in the late sixteenth century, Hardgrove Chase was a three-storey manor house graced on either end by a tall chimney. Vines clung to the sides of the house and large oaks shaded the west windows. A half circle of steps rose welcomingly to the wide door.

'Oh, I shouldn't worry my head over that, Miss Sookie. I ain't ever known you to be without a proper word or two,' said Tara, squeezing Sookie's hand. Her tart observation earned her a look of mock outrage from her mistress. Tara just chuckled. 'Everything will be fine, Miss Sookie. They'll love you just like everyone else does.'

'But in New Orleans –'

'Oh, fiddlesticks, Miss Sookie! What happened back home weren't your fault. It was all that Mr. Bill's fault and you know it. That man lacked sense and a lot more if you ask me. No, this trip to your cousin's will be good for you. You'll meet new people who will see just how wonderful you are.'

Sookie pulled Tara into a tight hug. 'Thank you, Tara,' Sookie said after another moment or two. She studied Tara's profile carefully in the dying afternoon light. Her friend truly was beautiful, inside and out.

'Tara, are you happy?' Sookie asked, thoughtful.

'Whatever, do you mean, Miss Sookie?' Tara asked, looking at Sookie with a confused and startled expression.

'I mean, are you happy? With me and Jason? You could have gone after Gran's death. Jason gave you your freedom. You could have stayed in New Orleans as a freewoman and set up a shop. Or gone up north – Jason would have provided you with safe passage and money, I'm sure.'

'Oh, Sookie,' Tara said, dropping the 'Miss' for the first time since they were children. 'I couldn't open up a shop! I wouldn't know the first thing about running a business. And I don't know anyone up North. What would I do there? You and Jason are my family.'

'Oh Tara,' Sookie said, tears slipping down her cheeks. 'My dearest friend. I would be lost without you. I'm so happy you're here with me.'

'Now you stop that, Miss Sookie,' Tara said, clearing her throat. 'Puffy eyes and a nose redder than Louisiana mud is not the best way to make a good impression.'

Sookie smiled at Tara and wiped her eyes as the chaise drew up at the steps. The driver opened the carriage door and let down the iron step. Sookie accepted the man's hand in descending and then stood motionless on the gravel to look up at the house. There was no movement at the windows, nor did the door open at the arrival of the chaise. She frowned slightly. Tara was also struck by the odd lack of activity. 'Perhaps we should ring the bell, Miss Sookie,' she suggested.

'Of course, Tara.' Sookie and her companion climbed the steps and Sookie firmly pulled on the bell. She could hear its echoes within and nodded with satisfaction. She addressed the chaise's driver. 'Pray set down our trunks and bring them in,' she said. The man nodded, touching his cap in deference. Sookie turned again to the door, only to wait futilely for it to open. She and Tara looked at one another, their eyes reflecting the same question. Sookie shook her head. 'Nonsense, they cannot have left. We were expected.' She took hold of the brass handle, not actually expecting it to turn. She was therefore surprised when the door eased open on well-oiled hinges. For a moment she stood indecisive. Then she shrugged slightly and pushed the door wide.'

'Miss Sookie, do you think we oughtn't to be doing this?' asked Tara doubtfully.

'Come, Tara. It is not as though we are unwelcome. The door is unlocked and we are expected guests,' said Sookie, as much to reassure herself as her friend. She stepped inside, followed a moment later by a reluctant Tara. The women stood in a large pleasant hall. A grand staircase rose in the center of the room, opening out to form the balcony of the upper hall. Several closed doors marched down either side of the entrance hall. The walls were covered in rich red silk with mirrors that reflected the sunlight dancing with dust motes across the marble floor. But the arrangement of white roses in the vase on the the occasional table found in the hall had long since withered and dropped petals to the surface of the table and floor. A thin coating of dust covered the straight-backed chairs that were set for visitors.

There was utter silence.

'I don't like the look of this, Miss Sookie,' said Tara firmly.

'Nor I, Tara,' admitted Sookie. She heard a step behind her and turned. The burdened chaise driver had paused in the doorway to look about him. 'Pray leave the baggage here. We shall go directly to find someone to tell us where it is to go,' said Sookie.

'I needs to be getting to the inn in the village for me next fare, ma'am,' said the man, settling down the load of baggage.

'Yes, I understand. We shall not be long, sir, I assure you,' said Sookie. She gestured to Tara and they walked down the hall, opening doors as they went. In room after room the curtains over the tall windows were drawn, creating an impression of gloomy abandonment. Some of the rooms were surprisingly untidy. Ashes that had been left in the fireplace grates had spilled out onto the floor and an occasional window had been left open to allow debris and rain to be blown inside. Grey cobwebs festooned every corner.

Sookie felt more and more dismayed. It was hardly the welcome she'd expected. It appeared that she and Tara had come to an empty house.

'If there is someone here, Miss Sookie, we'll find signs in the kitchen,' said Tara. Sookie nodded and together they went in search of the kitchen.

Most of the inner regions of the house showed the same signs of neglect they'd seen in the rooms off the entrance hall. When they did find the kitchen they were almost startled to find it inhabited. They paused in the doorway, silent with their surprise.

The elderly woman who worked at the stove did not at first notice that she was being observed. She stirred a large pot from which savoury steam arose and tossed in a handful of scallions. Her wrinkled face was red from the heat; a strand of her grey hair had fallen out of its pin and she brushed it up impatiently. Her expression was tired, resigned. She turned to the table to pick up a rack on which aired fresh loaves of bread and chanced then to see her audience. She started violently and the bread jumped out of her hands to the table and floor. She stood with one hand pressed on her ample breast and exclaimed, 'Lor'!'

Sookie entered the kitchen followed closely by Tara. 'I beg pardon! We did not mean to frighten you. I am Miss Susannah Stackhouse and this is my companion and maid, Miss Tara Thornton.' Sookie bent to retrieve the loaf of bread which had fallen on the floor. She sniffed appreciatively before setting it onto the plank table. With a friendly smile, she said, 'How good fresh-baked bread smells. I take it that you are Mrs. Savoy's cook?'

The plump woman had regained her colour and the look of fright faded from her eyes. She reached up to tuck a rebellious lock of hair back into her bun. 'Aye, I'm Mrs. Jenkins. I was that surprised to see you, miss. We – that is Mr. Jenkins and I – we'd forgotten that you would be coming, but now that you have it might be the very thing. Mr. Jenkins wrote to his lordship this two weeks past but never a word have we heard, and there be the mistress sick in her bed and the boy running wild and us with no help–' Tears started to the cook's faded grey eyes and she had recourse to her apron. She wiped her cheeks quickly and gave a watery sniff. 'Forgive me, miss, but it has been a bit of a burden as you may imagine.'

Tara had quietly picked up the rest of the bread and placed it neatly on the table. While the cook regained control of herself, she exchanged bewildered glances with her mistress. Tara was alarmed by the cook's partial revelation. 'Begging your pardon, Mrs. Jenkins, but what has happened? Where is Mr. Savoy?' Tara asked. The cook looked up, startled to hear Tara's voice. Her eyes dilated and a look of clear fascination overtook her face as she took in Tara's coffee coloured skin and dark hair for the first time.

'Yes, Mrs. Jenkins,' Sookie interjected. 'Where is Remy? Surely if Hadley is fallen ill, he would not leave her! And what is this about having no help? There must be others responsible for tending the house, surely!' said Sookie.

The cook shook her head. 'When the mistress was struck down with her illness, the others deserted her for fear of the pox. Of those in the house, only myself and Mr. Jenkins, who is the butler, stayed. And Master Remy–'

'Pox!' Sookie could not keep the mingled dismay and fear out of her voice, and she knew that her expression must have mirrored the same horror as was in Tara's face.

'No, no, miss! It is as I tried to tell those fools, who would not stay to listen. The mistress had chicken pox, not the dreaded small pox. But there was true pox in the countryside hereabouts not long ago and the fear was that it had come again. And seeing as how the houseservants were but a gaggle of silly geese who had no loyalty to a new mistress and master, they all left us without a thought of mercy in their hearts,' said Mrs. Jenkins bitterly.

'Then my cousin is lying somewhere in this house unattended except for you and Mr. Jenkins? But where are Remy and the boy?' asked Sookie sharply.

'Begging your pardon, miss, but Master Remy was called back to the Army more than two months since. Mr. Jenkins wrote him, too, but there is that fierce of fighting and running about on the Continent that Mr. Jenkins fears the letter went astray.' The cook paused and shook her head. 'As for the boy, Mr. Jenkins is looking about for him now. The little one is that wild and headstrong and lonely, what with his father being gone and his mother down in bed and no one to watch him. It is not enough, but Mr. Jenkins and I do our best, miss.'

'I am certain that you do. And I thank you most heartily for it. Well, Tara! It appears that we have our work cut out for us,' said Sookie with an attempt at lightness.

'Indeed we have, Miss Sookie,' said Tara with a slight smile. She removed her bonnet and her gloves to place them on an out-of-the-way chair. 'I shall aid Mrs. Jenkins with the tea and perhaps a tray for Mrs. Savoy wouldn't hurt.'

'An excellent thought, Tara. I shall wish to see my cousin as soon as possible. In the meantime, I suppose I should have our driver carry up our trunks and then pay him off. We shall not be returning to the village as I had earlier half-suspected might be necessary from the state of the house,' said Sookie. She turned to the cook who was staring at Tara. 'Mrs. Jenkins, if you would show me to the rooms most suitable for Tara and myself I would be most grateful. I should also like to see my cousin,' Sookie said, gaining the cook's attention.

'Sorry, miss! Of course, I would be most happy to, I am sure!' said Mrs. Jenkins, and with hardly a glance for the darker-skinned woman who was making herself familiar with her kitchen, she led Sookie back through the house.

The bedrooms that Mrs. Jenkins showed her to were covered in dust covers just as many of the rooms downstairs were. In the room that was to be Sookie's, Mrs. Jenkins crossed to the windows and vigorously pulled on the curtain ropes. The drapes flew open and sunlight streamed into the bedroom. 'It will look better once I have them covers off, miss,' she said, and set to with a will.

'Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins. I shall ask the driver to bring up the trunks now,' said Sookie, who had disposed of her bonnet, gloves, and pelisse on the canopied bed. Before she laid her reticule beside her other belongings, she removed her purse and slipped it into her pocket so that she could pay off the driver.

The chaise driver was not best pleased to learn that he was expected to carry the heavy trunks upstairs. When he had set down the baggage in the middle of the bedroom, he looked around with a judicial gaze. 'I ain't ever seen such a house. No one about and everything covered like it was a morgue,' he declared.

'We haven't time for your insults, my good man, so be gone with you,' said Mrs. Jenkins, affronted by the man's gall. She whisked the last cover from the dresser and energetically bundled it up.

Sookie led the grumbling driver back downstairs and handed him the fare that she owed as well as few extra pounds. When he saw the amount, his dour expression lightened. He touched his cap in deference. 'I thanks you very well, ma'am.'

Sookie shut the door and stood against it a moment in thought. She could yet scarcely believe the circumstances that she had found at Hardgrove Chase. With paying off the chaise, she had burned her bridges behind her. She was here for good and all. It was time to see her cousin and discover just how bad the situation truly was. Her imagination had already conjured up a grim picture. But it was not in her nature to quail in the face of adversity. Sookie went back upstairs to find Mrs. Jenkins, and have the good woman show her to her cousin's rooms.

Hadley Savoy appeared very fragile in the great canopied bed. Her dark blonde hair spread damply over the down pillow. Her face was pale and her eyes deep pools of brown underscored by dark shadows that testified to her sleeplessness. She looked faintly puzzled when she noticed Sookie standing behind Mrs. Jenkins. 'Who is it, Mrs. Jenkins?' she asked, her voice weak and raspy.

'Hadley,' said Sookie, approaching the bed.

Her cousin's face registered happy astonishment. 'Sookie! I can scarcely believe my eyes, but it must be you. You're so beautiful Sookie,' Hadley exclaimed. 'Much prettier than the miniature that you once sent to me.'

Sookie laughed and took the slender hand that her cousin held out to her. 'Yes, Hadley, it is I. I am only sorry that I have come at such a miserable time. Mrs. Jenkins tells me that you have had the chicken pox.'

Hadley grimaced. She turned her head to cough hollowly behind her hand. 'Such a childish disease to catch! I am well over it now. But I am still confined to my bed because I contracted pneumonia on top of it all. The excellent physician in the village informed me in his ponderous fashion that I was too weak to fight off the new infection. So here I am, still abed.'

Sookie seated herself in the chair beside the bed. 'Hadley, if it does not overtire you much, I should like to have tea with you here. There is so much I wish to say.'

'And I also! As for tiring me, your very presence is a breath of fresh air. I have been pitying myself a bit, you see. Mrs. Jenkins, if you will be so good as to arrange for our tea,' said Hadley, speaking in stronger accents than she had before.

'Aye, madam. The tea will be brought directly,' said Mrs. Jenkins, beaming to see her mistress so much livelier.

'Oh, Mrs. Jenkins, where is Hunter?'

Mrs. Jenkins frowned slightly. 'Mr. Jenkins be looking for him now, madam. He has gone down to the wood again, I am sure.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins,' said Hadley. As the door closed softly, she sighed and smiled over at Sookie. 'I fret constantly over Hunter. As you will soon discover, my son is a graceless scamp with a will of his own. Hunter has never taken direction well, but once I fell ill and the servants left, there was no one at all to curb him. I wish that Remy had not been called away so soon. There would then have been no question of our son's running wild or of the servants' desertion.'

'Forgive me, Hadley, but it strikes me as peculiar that every servant in the place chose to leave. Surely there were a few level heads among them!' said Sookie.

'There were precious few. Besides Mrs. Jenkins and her husband, who were in our service before we took possession of Hardgrove Chase ten months ago. Mr. Brigant's old gardener and groom have also remained, though I suspect it was more to do with Hardgrove Chase being their home than for any other reason. Besides them, Mr. Brigant had only his valet and a cook, and they both retired upon their master's death. So the household staff was newly appointed and had not yet learned loyalty to Remy and me,' said Hadley, coughing again. 'But I do not blame the servants for panicking, Sookie. It was such a short time ago that pox passed through the countryside.'

'I see.' Sookie's lips tightened slightly. She did not know if she could have been so magnanimous in the same situation. 'But the doctor has been to see you. Surely he must have reassured the ignorant that Hardgrove Chase was not tainted by the pox.'

'I have thought on it and I think that perhaps the servants have not returned because they are ashamed,' said Hadley.

'Your household sounds a group of morons,' said Sookie roundly. Her cousin laughed weakly, bringing on an extended bout of coughing. At this point, Mrs. Jenkins returned bearing a tea tray, and Sookie rose to assist her in moving an occasional table nearer the bed. Then she sat down and began to pour out the steaming tea.

'Mr. Jenkins has returned with Master Hunter, madam. They are belowstairs now having their tea with Miss Stackhouse's maid,' said Mrs. Jenkins.

Hadley nodded her thanks and the woman left the two cousins alone once more. Sookie helped arrange Hadley's pillows so that she could sit up comfortably and then handed her a cup of tea. 'I can see that you have not been sleeping well, Hadley. I shall try to discover if there are any herbs in the medicinal cabinet or the garden that I can make into a soothing tea for you. In the meantime, I wish you to eat at least one of these biscuits. You appear sadly wasted,' said Sookie.

'So Mrs. Jenkins has scolded me for more than once. But there is very little that appeals,' said Hadley, accepting a biscuit with reluctance.

'Never you mind about what appeals, Hadley. You must regain your strength, cousin, and I intend to see to it that you do so,' said Sookie.

Hadley laughed up at her. 'I see that you are a tyrant, cousin. I warn you, when I am up and about again I shall not allow you to so easily browbeat me so you should take every advantage now.'

'Fair enough. I hope that you do not take me amiss, Hadley, but I think there is much about the house that I and my maid, Tara Thornton, can turn our hands to. It appalls me to see the place so neglected,' said Sookie, thinking of the unlocked front door and the utter gloom of the shrouded rooms.

'I am not at all offended, cousin. I feel already such familiarity between us that I can leave it in your hands without a pang. But it would ease my mind far more to know that you were keeping an eye on Hunter for me. He is a dear, sweet little boy really,' said Hadley.

'Of course I will, Hadley. You may rest easy. Between myself and Tara, who is extremely capable, I am certain that we can redirect Hunter's energies.'

Hadley touched her cousin's arm. 'Thank you, Sookie. I am so pleased that you have come. I am only contrite that I cannot offer you entertainment that you deserve. When I am fully recovered we shall have a ball, I promise you,' she said.

'Pray, Hadley, do not give it a thought. I just want you to get better.'

The next two days were spent in a flurry of activity for Sookie and Tara. Sookie requested that Mrs. Jenkins fill her in on the needs of the house and grounds. 'Might I also suggest, miss, that you and Miss Tara make a trip to the village tomorrow afternoon for whatever items that you feel we are most in need of. Miss Tara will wish to familiarize herself with the shops I am sure. Such a lovely, capable girl, Miss Tara is.'

'You really like Tara, don't you, Mrs. Jenkins?' asked Sookie.

'Oh, yes, miss. I admit, in the beginning, Mr. Jenkins and I were a bit taken aback by Miss Tara's, er… appearance, why never having seen one such as Miss Tara in these parts before.'

'And now?' Sookie pressed.

'She's wonderful, miss. Hardworking and sensible, and the little master just adores her. Why Miss Tara had Master Hunter well in hand last I saw of them. Master Hunter was engaged in bringing order to his belongings abovestairs.'

Sookie's eyes began to dance. 'How singularly appropriate. I really must congratulate Tara on her fortitude.'

'Aye, miss,' said Mrs. Jenkins, her smile broadening.

The following morning began early for Sookie. She took charge of Hunter directly after breakfast to enable Tara to undertake some of the household duties with Mrs. Jenkins. Sookie looked over at her small cousin. His foot swung monotonously back and forth against the table leg at each swing. Sookie looked keenly at his face. His colouring was dark, but he resembled Hadley quite strongly. Her small cousin appeared intelligent enough, she thought. His hazel eyes expressed interest in all that went on around him and he met Sookie's gaze steadily but with wary curiosity. Though Hunter seemed willing enough to go with her, Sookie could easily measure the boy's defiance in his eyes. She decided her best course would be to enlist his help in familiarizing herself with the environs of Hardgrove Chase.

By luncheon time she had the satisfaction of knowing that she had firmly established the foundation for friendship with the boy. However, her gratification was somewhat impaired when she was reminded by Mrs. Jenkins of the overdue shopping expedition and Hunter learned that he was to go along.

'I shan't! I am to ride horses,' he said willfully.

'When you return from the village you may go to the stables and spend as much time as you like,' said Sookie. She won the ensuing contest of wills, but the victory was hollow when she saw that the happy light in Hunter's eyes had died and was replaced by his former belligerent expression. But she did not retreat from her position and the boy was taken off by Tara to be made ready for the trip.

Tara had a firm grasp on Hunter, who stood beside her with a mutinous expression. Sookie glanced thoughtfully at the rebellious set of the boy's firm chin and the martial light in his eyes, then addressed her companion. 'Tara, pray look about the village for a sweet shop, won't you? Perhaps Hunter would like a treat; that is, if you deem that his behavior warrants it.' The boy stared up at her, suspicion and desire warring in his face. Sookie coolly returned his gaze. 'I imagine that you can act the gentleman when you wish,' she said.

'Of course I can, right Miss Tara?' asked Hunter, puffing out his chest.

'He sure can, Miss Sookie. Why, Master Hunter is the best little gentleman I've ever met,' Tara confirmed, stroking his hair affectionately. She took hold of Hunter's hand and she and Mrs. Jenkins began ushering Hunter out of the door. 'We shall return with all speed, Miss Sookie,' said Tara, smiling.

When the party had left, Sookie changed into her oldest and dullest gown and swept her long blonde hair into a tidy bun. She returned belowstairs and made her way to the broom closet. She had decided to open a few more rooms off the entrance hall so that morning callers could be comfortably entertained and the drawing room could be used in the evenings. Choosing her tools well, she made her way into the hall.

'This will not do,' she said to herself as she began dusting the tables in the hall, progressively transferring the dust and dirt on to her dress and person. She gathered up the fallen petals and took the vases away to the kitchen. She made a quick trip into the garden for fresh blooms. She returned with the vases and roses and had begun to arrange the flowers, humming as she worked when the front doorbell rang. She was so startled by the noise that she dropped the stems in her hands. She stood indecisive for a moment, not knowing whether she should answer it. Jenkins would have told her if anyone was expected.

The bell rang again, this time with a distinct touch of impatience. Sookie made up her mind. She set down the roses and went to the door.

Sookie opened the door only enough to enable her to see who had rung the bell with such force. She was startled at the sight of the elegant gentleman on the steps. He was tall, very tall, and wore a gray multicaped greatcoat and dark beaver. His boots were polished to a fine mirror finish. Hearing the creak of the door, the gentleman turned quickly.

Sookie felt as though she were falling. The gentleman before her was the personification of Adonis himself. He was handsome, no, beautiful. His brows were blonde and his eyes the purest, clearest blue. His face was lean and chiseled, his lips full and perfectly sculpted. He wore an impatient frown, which did not dissipate upon seeing Sookie. If anything, his expression of disapprobation deepened as he swept her with a glance.

'Well? Do you mean to keep me about all day?' he asked unpleasantly. With one gloved hand he unceremoniously pushed wide the door and entered the hall.

Sookie stumbled back before the gentleman to avoid his quick steps. She stared at him, shocked out of her pleasant admiration. Taken aback by his presumptuous air, Sookie was struck speechless. Her wits seemed to have scattered. She watched dumbly while a valet carried in some trunks and a couple of portmanteaus.

The gentleman started to pull off his leather gloves, glancing about him as he did so. His frown became more pronounced at the dust and general untidiness of the hall. He stepped quickly to one of the doors off the hall and opened it to stare in to one of the shrouded rooms. He apparently did not care for what he saw since he closed the door with a snap and slapped his gloves against one muscular thigh. He turned an angry gaze on Sookie.

'I take it that your mistress has not been downstairs in some time, for I assure you the slack in management I see exhibited would not otherwise be tolerated. I do not know your name, nor do I care to. You are relieved of your duties from this moment. I expect you to be out of Hardgrove Chase within the hour,' he said harshly.

'What!'

The gentleman had started to turn away, but at Sookie's startled and indignant exclamation he paused. There was an unpleasant curl about his sensuous mouth as he stared down his nose at her. 'Did I not make myself perfectly clear, miss? I shall not have a slattern taking advantage of Mrs. Savoy's illness. If it is a reference you seek, perish the thought. You will receive nothing from me and may count yourself fortunate that I do not throw you out on your ear this moment.' After sweeping Sookie with a last indifferent glance, he set his foot to the stairs.

Sookie found her voice and her wits in the same instant. 'How dare you, sir! _I_ shall take leave to inform you that I am not the housekeeper. And further, I take exception both to your impertinent manner and tone. I should also like to know by what right you barge into this house and so familiarly start up the stairs to the family's private apartments.'

The gentleman looked down at her from the advantage of the added height of the step. His brows were raised in haughty surprise. 'My dear woman, I am Eric Alexander Northman, Marquess of Huntley, Mrs. Savoy's brother-in-law. I have perfect right to be here, which is more than I know of you.'

'I was not aware that Remy had a brother. Hadley never said,' Sookie remarked in surprise.

'Not that it is any concern of yours, madam, but Mr. Savoy and I share a mother,' stated the marquess, narrowing his eyes at Sookie. 'Now, by your accents I perceive that you are not English-bred, but you do have some education. Perhaps you will enlighten me as to your identity.'

Sookie advanced until she stood at the banister, which upon he had rested his hand when he turned to confront her. Her blue eyes were darkened almost to black with sparkling anger and Eric suddenly found himself knocked back by her obvious beauty.

'I am Miss Susannah Adele Stackhouse, Mrs. Savoy's cousin,' Sookie stated imperiously. 'I arrived three days ago on a visit from America to find my cousin abed ill, her son untended and uncivilized, and the house as you see it. The house is deserted of servants. Of the household staff only Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins have remained, and they are quite unequal to the task of maintaining the household as it should be.'

'And you, being an exceptionally practical young woman, have decided to turn a hand to the housekeeping,' said the marquess with a clearly derisive tone to his voice.

'Urgh! Do you know, sir, you are a singularly unpleasant, arrogant and rude man,' said Sookie with studied thoughtfulness. She had the satisfaction of seeing a flash of anger in the marquess' glacial eyes. Smiling coolly, she swept him an exaggerated curtsy. 'Pray excuse me if I do not seem overly eager to remain in your company, my lord!'

With that, Sookie turned on her heel and regally exited the hall.

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><p><strong>Well, what did you think? I know that the E&amp;S interaction was brief, but I wanted it to be explosive. Banter and clever witticism will be their foreplay, with the occasional bit of citrus sprinkled in. They will butt heads a lot and eventually something else... R&amp;R!<strong>


	3. A Second Encounter

**A/N: True Blood Season 4 tonight! Hurrah! Just had to get this one out before the premiere. Us Team Eric girls will finally get the season we've been waiting for. Both Alan Ball and ASkars have promised some hot and steamy Eric/Sookie goodness this season. Also, I just got my Entertainment Weekly in the post and it has the most hilarious cover of Anna Paquin and ASkars posing as the married couple from the painting 'American Gothic'. As usual, ASkars looks absolutely edible. **

**OK, so here's chapter 3. It's all Eric and Sookie, a bit more fuel to stoke the fire. I hope you all enjoy. It's a bit shorter than my previous chapters, but work has been kicking my butt! I also re-wrote the dialogue like a million times before settling on this. So that said, I hope you all will enjoy it.**

**I just want to say mega thanks to all those who reviewed and added alerts - very much appreciated!**

** I have started chapter 4 and am hoping to post this week. Maybe if I can get up to 40 reviews I can have it out by Friday? Just a little bribe...**

**OK, let me know what you think and I hope you all tune in to TB tonight! Go Eric!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 3<em>_: A second encounter_**

Once out of the marquess' disturbing presence, Sookie gave vent to her furious annoyance with a few choice words.

'Rude, insufferable, hateful man!'

She was still seething when she found the butler, Mr. Jenkins, in the kitchen polishing the silver. 'Jenkins, the Marquess of Huntley has arrived. He will be upstairs by now visiting with my cousin.'

'His lordship! At last, Miss Stackhouse! Why, that is wonderful news, miss. We – that is, Mrs. Jenkins and I – had quite despaired of his answering my letter of appeal. I will go up at once and discover what his lordship's wishes might be,' said Jenkins, hurriedly laying aside the platter he was polishing and throwing off his apron.

Sookie saw that Mrs. Jenkins was up to her elbows in flour, working with the day's fresh bread dough. 'I expect that Lord Northman will wish some tea. I will see to that,' said Sookie tritely, breathing slowly through her nose.

Mrs. Jenkins' mouth dropped open a little and she glanced at her husband. The butler hesitated, made uncertain by both Sookie's offer and the unusual agitation in her demeanor. 'Miss Stackhouse, I am not certain that it is at all the thing for a lady such as yourself…'

'Oh, fiddlesticks, Jenkins. I have been taken for a housekeeper and of a sudden it is a role that I fancy playing. Pray be so good as to direct me to the tea urn and biscuits,' said Sookie with a firmness not to be denied.

The butler reluctantly did so, then left her to it. Sookie nosed about the kitchen and pantry, as much to familiarize herself with the location of things as to discover something more filling than biscuits for a gentleman's tea. However much she had disliked the Marquess of Huntley on first acquaintance, she would not allow it to interfere with her sense of what was proper. She found some slivers of cold pork left over from the previous meal and added the meat to the tray along with some thick slices of fresh bread.

Sookie carried the heavy tray into the dining room. She was pouring the tea when the Marquess of Huntley was shown in by Jenkins. Lord Northman was dressed in an admirably fitted fawn coat and tight buckskins. His startlingly white cravat, intricately tied and held with a sapphire stickpin, was in pleasing contrast to his tanned countenance and honey coloured hair. Sookie found she had to bite her tongue to hold back the sigh which almost escaped her lips at the sight of him.

Lord Northman advanced across the room to place his hands on the back of one of the dining chairs. 'I fancy that I owe you an apology, ma'am. My sister-in-law seems quite grateful for your presence,' he drawled.

Sookie measured him with a cool glance. 'Indeed, sir? I am naturally gratified by the intelligence.' She gestured at the meager tea spread out on the table. 'Your tea, my lord. Pray excuse me now, for I have several tasks to attend to.' She picked up the empty tray.

'Pray, will you not keep me company, Miss Stackhouse? I believe that there is much we should perhaps discuss concerning Hardgrove Chase,' said Lord Northman.

His tone was not conciliatory. On the contrary, Sookie detected almost a note of command in his request and she bristled at it. However, if Sookie's beloved gran were alive she'd have tanned her hide for being rude. Sookie was a well-bred lady, after all, and what the marquess said was undoubtedly true. The situation at Hardgrove Chase was an unusual one, to say the least.

'Very well, my lord,' Sookie said with slight reluctance in her voice.

She set down the tray and accepted the chair that the marquess pulled out for her with a murmur of thanks. She tried not to let his close proximity disarm her. She folded her hands and waited while he went around the table to seat himself before the tea and food.

His lordship did not speak until after he had made himself a sandwich and washed down the first few bites with some tea. Then he said, 'Miss Stackhouse, I did not realize until arriving how dire the situation is at Hardgrove Chase. Jenkins' letter naturally alluded to the exodus of the servants but I had put that down to the sort of exaggeration meant to impress. When I saw the state of the place, naturally, I was appalled. You may then imagine my fears that my sister-in-law had been equally neglected.'

'Fortunately that has not been the case. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins have been quite conscientious in that regard. They have also done their best in regards to the boy, but I fear with far less success,' said Sookie.

The marquess shot her a frowning stare. 'I seem to recall your mentioning my nephew before in rather disparaging terms. Pray elaborate, Miss Stackhouse.'

'When I arrived, sir, your nephew was nowhere to be found and Jenkins was out scouring the estate for him. I gathered from Mrs. Jenkins that it was not an unusual occurrence and indeed, upon meeting Hunter later, I ascertained that he has been quite a handful. He was unkempt and obviously wearing the same clothing that he had had the day before. He was also rather surly in manner, quite unlike what I'd imagined a child of my cousin's to be,' said Sookie.

'However, I believe that some progress has already been made. I let Master Hunter know that his mother had given over some responsibility for him to me and proceeded to demonstrate what that would mean. At my behest, my maid, Tara, and Mrs. Jenkins placed Master Hunter in the bath. This afternoon they have taken him to the village and he was made aware before they left that if he was to mind his manners, he should be bought a treat. I fancy that that, as well as the time I spent with him this morning, will influence him somewhat,' finished Sookie.

'I perceive that you are a lady of resolute character, Miss Stackhouse,' said Lord Northman with an assessing look.

Sookie was not certain that his tone conveyed commendation, but nevertheless she inclined her head slightly. 'So I should hope, my lord.'

The marquess finished his sandwich and now poured himself a second cup of tea. He leaned back in his chair. 'I must tell you, Miss Stackhouse, that however grateful my sister-in-law may be to you, I myself find it appalling that the care of my family should fall into the hands of a stranger, however well-intentioned she may be,' he said.

There was a short silence while Sookie digested his statement. She held back the impulse to throw his cup of tea in his smug, hateful face. 'I can assure you, my lord, that Hadley and I are not strangers. We were raised together until the age of seven and have been in regular correspondence during the years in between. However, I can understand your reservations. Indeed, your sentiments do you credit,' she said magnanimously.

'Then you will understand why I have decided to remain at Hardgrove Chase until my sister-in-law is quite recovered, perhaps longer should Hadley have further need of me,' said Lord Northman in a challenging tone.

Sookie was disconcerted. It was the last thing she expected to hear. Thoughtfully, she swept the gentleman across from her with a slow glance. The Marquess of Huntley, who appeared every inch the elegant gentleman, did not strike her as the sort who would willingly spend even a weekend on a country estate. With a tight smile, Sookie replied, 'Of course you must do as you wish.'

Lorth Northman laughed at that. 'I always do, Miss Satckhouse, I assure you,' he said with a slight smirk. Not for the first time, noticing how beautiful Miss Stackhouse was, despite the layer of dust covering her lusciously formed person. 'Now as for yourself, I understand from Hadley that your brother was also expected, but I do not recall seeing him about.'

'My brother, Jason, was detained in port. His ship was unfairly seized for being in violation of your government's Orders in Council and he has set in motion an official protest,' said Sookie shortly. She was unwilling to discuss the matter in any great detail with this cynically smiling gentleman.

'I see. I must naturally wish Mr. Stackhouse all success in his endeavor. However, it seems to me that we cannot expect his appearance at any time in the foreseeable future,' said Lord Northman in a dismissing tone.

_Hateful, insufferable man!_ Sookie seethed inwardly. 'Perhaps not. I shall excuse myself now, my lord. As I mentioned earlier, there are a few matters that I wish to attend to,' said Sookie, rising from the table.

The marquess flipped his hand at her in acquiescence and showed her the barest courtesy by only half-rising from his chair. Sookie's eyes narrowed at this slight, but she said nothing.

_Conceited, despicable prig! _Sookie thought as she gathered up the tea tray and left the dining room. The arrogant, superior Marquess of Huntley may be smiling now, but he would quickly learn that she was _not_ to be dismissed so lightly.

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><p><strong><em>Please review! 40 reviews and I'll post by Friday...<em>  
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	4. What's My Name?

**A/N: How great was the premiere of TB Season 4? Have also watched episode 2 now and ASkars is _damn_ sexy in it. Episode 3 promises to be a real cracker - bring on the shower scene!**

**Right, so here is Chapter 4 as promised _and_ I even managed to get it out a day earlier than expected. Thank you all _sooooooooooooooo_ much for the lovely reviews and all of the alerts and favourites! **I appreciate it!****

**I would also like to take this opportunity to clear up and answer a few questions/points which were brought up in the reviews:**

**First, Mikimargs. I'm really sorry, guys, but I am not Mikimargs. I don't know why my user ID came up when you searched for her. I only joined fanfic very recently. I did do a search for Mikimargs on the site and it doesn't seem to point to my ID, so perhaps that glitch has been fixed by the powers that be? Sorry it's not the answer you were hoping for and that I have disappointed some of you, but I cannot take credit for her name or works. From all your comments, it seems like she was a great writer. Hopefully she'll come back to the site.  
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**Second, I am Scottish. So a few of my spellings may seem odd or look incorrect to you, fear not! We just spell things funny over here. Also, in Britain, we do not use double quotations (") to signify dialogue. We use inverted commas ('). We only use double quotations when we want to highlight dialogue within dialogue. So basically, we do the complete opposite to what is done in the States. Internal dialogue will always be _italicized_. Sorry if this seems confusing but this is the way I have been taught to write and it is the style I am most comfortable with. There are a few British writers who are choosing to write in the American style, but I am not one of them. Gotta stay true to my roots;)!  
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**Last, the dialogue and tone of the story. I am glad that you all enjoy the dialogue and overall tone of this story! I must admit that I have been watching a lot of costume dramas to get me in the right frame of mind. I re-watched P&P the BBC series with Colin Firth and the film with Keira Knightly, as well as _Lost in Austen_. I also watched all of Downton Abbey and Sense and Sensibility. So a few of the phrases - especially the ones said by Eric and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins are directly lifted from those shows/films/series. I have also re-read parts of William Makepeace **Thackeray**'s _Vanity Fair_ ( I adore Becky Sharp - arguably the best female character ever written) and _Gone With the Wind_. You have those two pieces of literature, as well as P&P to thank for Sookie's sharp tongue, acerbic wit, and southern colour. All of these sources have been indispensable in helping me get the feel for the story, as well as my own research into the period.**

**Sorry to waffle on like this, but I hope this clears up a few things. So, here is Chapter 4 - it's all Sookie and Eric - doing what they do best... verbal duelage! I promise there will be some citrusy goodness at some point, but this isn't a bodice ripper. The dialogue is their foreplay for now...**

**Hope you enjoy - let me know what you think!  
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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 4<em>****_:What's My Name?  
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'Uncle Eric! Uncle Eric!'

There was a man's deep laughter and the sound of running footsteps. Sookie emerged into the hall just in time to see her young cousin fling himself into the marquess's arms and be swung about in a wide circle. She was astonished by the warmth in Lord Northman's laughing expression as he spoke to his nephew. During their interview earlier she had decided that his lordship was a rather cynical, cold gentleman but the marquess' obvious attachment to his nephew tempered the negative opinion that she had formed of him. Watching the smile that graced his lordship's face when he gazed upon his nephew caused an unknown flutter in Sookie's stomach. An unknown flutter which made Sookie feel decidedly uneasy.

Under the cover of their laughter and the boy's excited talk, Sookie addressed her friend. 'How did it go with the young ruffian?' she asked quietly.

Tara chuckled. 'Very well, Miss Sookie. Oh, there were a couple of incidents, to be sure. But overall, Master Hunter minded himself very well. As you know, Mrs. Jenkins returned early to Hardgrove Chase, leaving Master Hunter and I to explore the village green and surrounding wood.'

'I am happy to hear it. I trust also that the appearance of Master Hunter and Mrs. Jenkins in the village excited the proper attention,' said Sookie.

'Yes, it did just that. We'll have no more talk of plague and pox, I'll warrant,' said Tara with satisfaction, looking over at Mrs. Jenkins who had just walked into the hall from the kitchen.

The enthusiasm of the fond meeting between uncle and nephew had dissipated a little, enabling the marquess to overhear what had been said. 'What is that, Miss Stackhouse?' he asked sharply.

Before Sookie could answer, Mrs. Jenkins dropped a hasty curtsy and interjected, 'Begging your lordship's pardon, I am sure. It was Miss Stackhouse's thought, and a good one it was, for I and Master Hunter to make an excursion into the village so that those who ought to know better would still their tongues about us here at Hardgrove Chase.'

Sookie thought she could interpret the marquess' sudden frown. 'It seems that my cousin's illness was rumoured to be the pox, my lord. That is why the servants fled so precipitously.'

'Good God, what ignorant fools,' said Lord Northman impatiently.

'Quite, my lord,' said Sookie with a faint smile.

Eric eyed her for a moment. 'I must bow to your ingenuity, ma'am. It was a masterful stroke.' He held out his hand to his nephew. 'Come, Hunter. We shall go out to the stables, you and I. I drove down my gray team, you know.'

'Did you, uncle? How marvelous!' said Hunter. With the boy skipping alongside, the marquess left the hall.

'His lordship seems a nice gentleman,' said Tara.

'Does he? Hmm, I suppose so,' said Sookie with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Her friend threw her a wondering glance which Sookie chose to ignore. She turned to the cook. 'I have made the drawing room habitable, Mrs. Jenkins, so that we may have our coffee in there this evening.'

'Oh, miss! You shouldn't have bothered. Why it isn't fitting,' said Mrs. Jenkins, somewhat distressed.

Sookie laughed, her blue eyes dancing a little. 'I do not think that a little dusting will harm me, Mrs. Jenkins. It was so badly needed, there and in the other rooms as well. However, I shall want a bath before dinner is served, Tara. I have gotten myself quite untidy this afternoon.'

'Of course, Miss Sookie. I shall attend to it at once,' said Tara, preceding her mistress up the stairs.

As Sookie bathed, Tara laid out her clothes for the evening; a pale blue muslin trimmed with satin roses and tiny seed pearls, delicate white satin slippers with sapphire blue embroidery and a turquoise necklace to match the colour of the dress. Although the dinner was an informal one, Tara wanted her mistress to look her best in front of the Marquess of Huntley.

After helping her mistress dress, Tara preceded to style Sookie's hair into a low chignon held back with a gold comb. She allowed a few soft tendrils to frame her mistress' face.

Sookie studied her reflection in the mirror. 'Well, Tara, you've certainly outdone yourself this evening. Though, why you felt you needed to dress me in one of my better muslin gowns is a mystery.'

Tara tutted at her mistress. 'Oh, pooh, Miss Sookie! It's not every evening a lady dines with a real English lord, formal or not,' said Tara. 'Besides, I'll not have you lookin' like some ol' chewed up possum. I wouldn't be doing my duty as your maid.'

Sookie chuckled at her friend. 'Well thank you, Tara. You've made me look like Diana herself. Though, whether his lordship will feel up to the role of Apollo is yet to be seen. He is certainly no fan of mine,' Sookie exclaimed.

'Hogwash, Miss Sookie! That man just ain't seen you proper is all.'

Sookie shook her head at her maid, smiling as she left for dinner. She decided to check in on her cousin first. Hadley had just been served a tray by Mrs. Jenkins and seemed much more cheerful than she had previously.

'Sookie!' She stretched out a hand to her cousin and urged her to sit beside her bed. 'I am so glad you have come to see me. Oh, and how beautiful you look!'

Sookie smiled sweetly at her cousin. 'Thank you, Hadley. I must say, that you look much improved this evening.'

'Yes, well, Mrs. Jenkins has made it her personal mission to see me plump by week's end. But enough about me,' Hadley rushed on, dismissing her comment with a wave. 'I have been dying to hear your opinion of my brother-in-law, Eric. Is he not a superb example of a true gentleman?'

Sookie was hesitant to disagree when Hadley appeared so eager, so she hedged a little. 'I think his lordship could be said to have an imposing personality.'

Hadley laughed at her. 'What a quaint way you have, Sookie! If I did not know Eric better I would suspect that he had set your back up in some way. But I know that cannot be true. Eric is the best of men. He can make himself so very agreeable. Now tell me how you have spent your day. I am anxious to hear all about it.' Hadley settled herself more comfortably against her pillows and looked at Sookie expectantly.

Sookie obliged with a humorous account of her dealings with Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins and Hunter and her endeavors as a housekeeper. She also gave Hadley a highly coloured version her meeting with the marquess. Hadley laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks.

'Oh do stop, Sookie! I shall die laughing at another word,' she gasped. 'To think that Eric could make such a mistake. It is appall–appalling!' And she fell into a fresh peal of laughter.

'Well! I had thought to have my insult treated with more respect than this,' said Sookie with mock affront. She frowned lugubriously at her cousin, who attempted and failed to sober her expression.

'I am sorry, cousin. It is too–too bad of me,' said Hadley, wiping her face and still chuckling. Mrs. Jenkins had come in to take Hadley's tray and nodded approvingly at how much had been consumed. She also beamed to see her mistress in such good spirits.

'I am only happy that I have been able to make you laugh,' said Sookie. She leaned over to place her cool cheek against her cousin's in a tender display of affection. 'I must go down to dinner now. I do not think I shall visit you again this evening; but I shall have Tara bring Hunter up after dinner.'

Hadley nodded. She was still smiling as Sookie left the room in the company of Mrs. Jenkins. 'The mistress has been done a wonder of good by your attention, miss,' said the cook. 'She has eaten two full meals since you have come and is livelier than she's been since the household servants deserted Hardgrove Chase. At this rate she'll be up and about in no time.'

'I do hope you are right, Mrs. Jenkins,' said Sookie, entering the dining room.

As a treat, Hunter had been allowed to have dinner downstairs in the dining room with his uncle and Sookie. Tara also graced the table, though she appeared somewhat uncomfortable to be doing so whenever the marquess' glance happened to fall on her. When dinner was done, Tara took Hunter back upstairs to visit with Hadley before going to bed.

Sookie watched as Lord Northman's eyes followed Tara out of the dining room. After a moment he spoke. 'You are fortunate in your maid, Tara, Miss Stackhouse. She seems to be a woman of many talents, not the least of which is a firm hand with young, mischievous boys,' said Lord Northman in an idle voice.

'Indeed, my lord. I do not know how I would go on without her. She has been the greatest support to me. She is my dearest friend,' said Sookie. She looked up to find Lord Northman giving her a peculiar stare. 'You seem shocked by my admission, sir. Perhaps it is, that you do not judge it proper behavior for a lady to be friends with her maid,' mused Sookie.

'Not at all, Miss Stackhouse. You are decidedly uncommon in your ways. Perhaps it is the fact that you are a colonial? One can hardly expect you to be fully educated in true and proper etiquette,' said Lord Northman.

Sookie's eyes narrowed with undisguised rage. _How dare he insinuate that I am not a proper lady! The cheek of him. Miserable sod! _Sookie thought. She watched as Mrs. Jenkins brought a bottle of wine to the table, using the interruption to collect herself before giving a calm and measured response.

She stood abruptly. 'I see that it is time for your wine, my lord, so I shall make my exit and leave you alone to enjoy it.'

'Pray do not go, Miss Stackhouse. I do so detest drinking alone. Your presence will be a boon to me,' said Lord Northman.

'My lord, I do not think it would be at all _proper_ for me to stay. So once again, I bid you goodnight, sir,' Sookie insisted, turning to leave the diniong room.

The marquess waved his hand in a dismissive manner. 'Miss Stackhouse, please, what is a bit of laxity in etiquette amongst friends? Sit, stay. Please. I insist.'

Sookie hesitated, then acquiesced, resuming her seat. She shook her head when he offered to pour a glass of the ruby liquid for her. 'Thank you, my lord, but I do not care overmuch for wine. I much prefer coffee or tea.'

'Then you shall have it. Jenkins, a pot of coffee on the instant,' said the marquess. The butler, who had been silently listening to Sookie's and the marquess' exchange from the corner of the room, walked over to the sideboard and collected the coffee pot, placing it on the table in front of Sookie.

'Thank you Jenkins. That will be all,' said the marquess. Jenkins bowed, then left the dining room, leaving Sookie and Lord Northman alone.

Sookie served herself a cup of the hot, fragrant brew, aware all the while that Lord Northman was studying her face. A slight flush rose to her cheeks under his intense scrutiny.

'You are an unusual woman, Miss Stackhouse. I have already seen the results of your efforts in the house and I speak not only of your housekeeping. I have spoken with the Jenkinses and they have nothing but your praise to sing. Mrs. Jenkins in particular was determined to make me aware my sister-in-law has shown improvement since your arrival,' said the marquess.

'If that is the case I am heartily glad of it,' said Sookie. 'Hadley is very dear to me, though we have not seen one another since we were girls, and in the intervening years have remained close through our letters.' She coolly met the marquess' eyes. 'You seem to be quite a favourite of my cousin's, my lord.'

Eric smiled slightly, aware of the reserve in her tone. 'And does that surprise you, Miss Stackhouse? That Hadley should find me so agreeable?'

'Not at all. I think you are too clever to expose Hadley to your bad temper when she is ill,' said Sookie promptly.

The marquess threw back his head and laughed. 'I see that I shall never live down the error in thinking you a slatternly housekeeper! I apologise again for my gross misjudgment, Miss Stackhouse. There! Is that not done handsomely enough to allow us to be friends?'

'Perhaps, my lord. Your manners are very agreeable when you wish it,' said Sookie, smiling.

Eric felt his lungs empty of air and stared dumbly at her. _Was she teasing me? _He mused. Eric was reluctantly impressed with the dancing look in her fine blue eyes. It was not often that he found himself on the receiving end of such teasing. It was a new experience from a woman and he was not certain that he particularly enjoyed it, but certainly he had not been bored for a single moment in Miss Stackhouse's company.

'Allow me to return the compliment, ma'am. I was quite taken aback at what I shall term your graceless colonial manners. I am not at all used to receiving an upbraiding from a lady,' he said with a mock bow.

Sookie laughed softly. To the marquess' ears it had a soft, tinkling quality to it, not altogether unpleasant.

'I can well imagine,' murmured Sookie.

Eric gave her a wounded look and threw up his hand. 'True ma'am! Let us agree on a truce, I implore you! I do not know if my sense of self-worth can withstand much more.'

Sookie laughed outright. 'Very well,' she conceded. 'I shall agree to such, if only to allow you to lick your wounds, my lord.'

'Eric. Please, call me Eric,' said the marquess smiling.

Sookie's eyes widened in surprise. It was a moment before she collected herself enough to answer, 'Only if you call me, Susannah.'

'Susannah?' asked the marquess. 'But I have heard both Hadley and Tara address you by the quaint little moniker, Sookie. A pet name, I presume.'

'Ah, yes. But, only my very dearest may address me as Sookie. I think, my lord, that you and I still have a ways yet before we reach that stage in our acquaintance,' Sookie said, merriment shining in her eyes.

Eric bowed once more, thinking as he looked at her that he had never met a more infuriating female. Yet there was something about Susannah, nay, _Sookie_, that went beyond the annoyance that she engendered in him with her spirited remarks.

She was beautiful, to be sure. He had already taken note of the pale blue gown which showed her slim, yet shapely form to great advantage and her heavy, shining, honeyed hair resting against the back of her slender, swan-like neck. The chignon was unusual when short curled hair was the fashion, but it suited Sookie admirably. He had admired as well her impossibly blue eyes and her creamy skin which shown golden in the warm glow of the candlelight.

But it was her personality that most intrigued him. She was different from other ladies of his acquaintance, mainly due to her sultry, heavily accented drawl, but also her complete indifference to him. She was yet to beckon him with the come-hither look to which he was accustomed when a woman's eyes dwelled upon his person. Miss Susannah Stackhouse had not exhibited one iota of interest in him or his social status.

_And if that irks__ me, then I am sadly wanting in character that I must have a colonial nobody's admiration_, Eric thought to himself with something like chagrin.

'I am touched by your devotion to your family, my lord– I mean, Eric,' Sookie said with a sweet, shy smile. 'Jenkins said that he had written to you of Hadley's illness and the situation at Hardgrove Chase. It says much that you left your own pursuits to come down here.'

'Hadley is my sister-in-law, Hunter my only nephew. And though Remy and I share a mother only, we are brothers in the truest sense. Indeed, despite the fact Remy is the elder by only three years, he has always served as my protector and acted in my best interest. It is only fitting that I should now act as guardian and caretaker of his family in his absence,' said Eric. 'Besides which, I was due for a rustication in any event. I am presently out of favour with the Prince Regent and it is better that my face not be seen about London to remind his highness of his irritation.' Eric smirked as he leaned forward to pour himself another glass of wine. With his head bent, he missed the expression of outrage and disgust that crossed Sookie's face.

'I will say good night now, _my lord_,' said Sookie, rising from the table. She allowed no sign of the anger she felt to show in her expression at Lord Northman's callous and offhand confession that it was as much convenience that brought him to Hardgrove Chase as it was consideration for the well-being of his sister-in-law and nephew. But she could not control the darkened colour of her eyes.

Eric was startled by the coolness of her tone and abruptness of her move to depart. 'But it is early, Susannah. Surely you do not wish to end the evening so quickly.'

'I have had a rather fatiguing day, my lord–'

'Eric,' the marquess interrupted.

Sookie chose to ignore his interruption and carried on. 'And the coffee has had time to cool to indifference. From that standpoint alone, I think it a good moment to take my leave,' said Sookie firmly. She made a slight curtsy and had left the dining room almost before the marquess had collected himself enough to rise in courtesy from his chair.

Eric thought he saw a flash in Sookie's sapphire eyes as she swept out of the room. For a moment he wondered what he had done to irritate her, then he shrugged indifferently. It could have been anything. She was a colonial, after all – ill-mannered and ill-tempered.

_Women_, he thought to himself, shaking his head slightly. With a sigh, Eric settled back in his chair to finish his wine.


	5. A Spot of Cleaning

**A/N: Hurrah! Look at me updating again this week! Well you all deserve it! Big thanks to all of the reviews and alerts and favourites. I love them all!**

**I am not sure when I will update next as the upcoming week is going to be insane for me. I will try to get something up for Friday, but I can't make any promises. {BRIBE ALERT!} Perhaps, if I get closer to 100 reviews, then I will be persuaded to update faster - perhaps even earlier than Friday! OK, so enough of my shameless begging. **

**No lemons yet, I'm afraid, but we're getting there, I promise! Lemons take time, there's etiquette and whatnot that needs to be waded through first before we can get to the citrusy goodness underneath. I have to say that I_ really_ enjoyed writing this chapter. The turn of events in this chapter was inspired by episode 2 of _Lost in Austen_. If you haven't seen the series which is produced by ITV here in the UK, then you must watch it. Jemima Roper is hilarious and the guys who play Mr. Bingley and Mr. Wickham are HOTT! Darcy's not too bad either ;)  
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**Anyway, here is chapter 5 - Hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think!  
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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 5<em>****_: A Spot of Cleaning _**

The following morning Sookie dressed with an eye to utility. She wore a stuff gown of indifferent colour and fit and somewhere produced an apron. Looking at herself in the mirror she was satisfied that she presented the very picture of an upstairs parlour maid. Tara stared hard at her mistress' outfit but she knew better than to comment when Miss Sookie held such a challenging look in her eyes. Instead she meekly accepted Sookie's suggestion that they clean the upper rooms after breakfast.

'An excellent idea, Miss Sookie. I shall join you directly after I have seen to the boy,' said Tara.

'Of course. I had forgotten Hunter,' said Sookie with a small frown. 'Do you take him in to see Hadley this morning?'

'Oh no, not until luncheon. I expect Mrs. Savoy will appreciate a peaceful morning and after a few hours exercising the horses under Dawson's strict eye, Master Hunter will not be quite so feisty,' said Tara wryly.

'I understand completely. You have it well in hand, Tara. I admit that I have my reservations about turning Hunter over to the groom, but if Tray Dawson is able to curb my small cousin's exuberance, he is an excellent man indeed,' said Sookie with a laugh.

'Indeed he is, Miss Sookie,' said Tara.

Sookie went downstairs to the dining room. Jenkins was serving breakfast and his bow was all that was correct when Sookie entered. However, there was a slightly shocked look in his eyes at Sookie's chosen form of dress. He recovered quickly and nothing could have exceeded his civility as he asked her what her preference would be from the sideboard.

Sookie requested poached eggs and toast. There was dancing fun in her eyes when she glanced at the butler. 'I am disappointed, Jenkins! Do I not sufficiently look the part of a housemaid for you to scold me for my presumption in coming to breakfast?'

'No one could ever mistake you for a housemaid, Miss Susannah,' said Jenkins staunchly. But there had been the briefest hesitation before he replied that spoke volumes.

'Thank you, Jenkins,' said Sookie, her lips quivering. She knew at least one person who would say otherwise. At the thought of Lord Northman, she wondered whether she had already missed him. That would be a pity because she anticipated that her outfit would provoke that gentleman to comment and she had a particular reason for wanting him to do so. She picked up the coffee pot to pour a cup of the hot brew.

'Has his lordship come down yet?'

'No, Miss Susannah. His lordship was up very late last evening and indicated that he would not be requiring breakfast,' said Jenkins. His countenance and his voice were wooden.

The butler's statement combined with his style of delivery convinced Sookie that the marquess had put his request a bit more strongly that Jenkins had intimated. She rather thought it probable that the marquess had finished off the bottle of wine on the dining table after she had left and then had subsequently made it clear that he had no desire for social pleasantries in the morning.

'I understand, of course. Have you known the Marquess of Huntley long, Jenkins?'

'Indeed I have, Miss Susannah. For some years now,' said Jenkins, preparing to leave her alone to enjoy her meal.

Sookie shot a level glance at him. 'Is Lord Northman often in his cups?'

The butler was startled by the clear intentness of her gaze. 'Why, I really couldn't say, miss. That is, his lordship enjoys his wine like any other gentleman. He is the sort of rollicking gentleman one expects of a London beau. His visits to his brother have always been accompanied by high spirits and great fun. I have never seen his lordship moody or in a fit of the doldrums.'

'Thank you, Jenkins,' said Sookie with a nod.

As he left the dining room the butler was discomfited by the suspicion that he had perhaps said too much, but he cheered himself with the reflection that Miss Stackhouse was a colonial, after all, and could not be expected to understand all the nuances of what he had left unuttered.

In that Jenkins was mistaken. Sookie was not at all behind in reading between the lines. Her eyes narrowed as she thought over the information that she had gleaned from the loyal butler. The Marquess of Huntley was a self-indulgent man who imbibed freely. He liked entertainments and was restless unless he could be in the go. He probably did not care for serious reflection or conversation. Jenkins' disclosure, coupled with the marquess' own admission that he had left London because he was in disgrace with the Prince Regent, who from all accounts was a frivolous fop surrounded by a circle of acquaintances who were mad pleasure-seekers like himself, was fast persuading Sookie that the Marquess of Huntley was a gentleman with no more substance or proper feeling than a cut-out paper doll.

'How revolting,' she said aloud. She felt an acute sense of disappointment. When she had first laid eyes on the marquess, after those first few seconds when his frowning eyes had swept her with disdain, she had been startled by an incredible attraction to him. It was annoying to discover that once again she had been fooled by a handsome manly exterior that hid the shallowest of bases.

Sookie shook her head to rid herself of all thoughts of her former fiancé. The engagement to Bill Compton had been a mistake never to be repeated. Though her thoughts had not carried her so far as to contemplate herself becoming affianced a second time. Sookie was determined to keep her defenses up around the marquess. His lordship might be the most handsome gentleman that Sookie had ever seen, but he was definitely _not_ for her. Finished with breakfast and her reflections on Lord Northman alike, Sookie rose from the table and left the dining room to go in search of a feather duster.

Sookie spent the greater part of the morning in cleaning. When Tara appeared to assist her, Sookie had removed the last of the dust sheets from the furniture in several of the bedrooms and their adjoining sitting rooms. With an ongoing lively banter, Sookie and Tara cleaned grates and polished furniture to a shining mirror finish with an energetic application of beeswax.

Once Mrs. Jenkins popped in her head to inquire of Miss Stackhouse whether she would prefer a boiled chicken or pot pie for the noonday meal. When she returned to the kitchen she expressed her astonishment to Mr. Jenkins at the sight of Miss Stackhouse making herself so useful.

'It isn't decent, Mr. Jenkins, for a gently bred lady to put herself out so. My eyes fair started from my head to see Miss Susannah waving a polish cloth and to hear her joke of the ash from the grate marking her skirts. No, no, Mr. Jenkins. This won't do! It isn't right,' said Mrs. Jenkins, greatly distressed.

She uncovered a large bowl and turned out the doubled bread dough onto a floured board. She gave the dough an unwarranted hard thump and it collapsed giving off the fresh smell of yeast.

'Calm yourself, my dear. You will ruin the bread with your rough treatment,' cooed Mr. Jenkins, concerned for his wife.

'Oh, sod the bread, Mr. Jenkins! Did you not hear a word I said?' demanded Mrs. Jenkins of her husband. 'And you may be sure that Mrs. Savoy knows nothing about it, for when I took up her dry toast and gruel and the chamomile tea Miss Susannah fixed for her this morning, she asked if her cousin was finding enough to entertain her. Entertain her! Why, Mr. Jenkins, the poor lady is a fair way to working her fingers to the bone. Mark me, I did not say a word to the mistress. Seeing as how Miss Susannah has not. But it goes against the grain with me, Mr. Jenkins, and so I tell you.'

Mr. Jenkins was frowning as he peered into the emerging shine of the piece of silver that he was polishing. 'I shall discreetly mention the matter to the marquess. Though his lordship does not express an interest in such matters as housekeeping, I am certain that he would want to be informed of Miss Susannah's activities.'

His wife nodded her head, satisfied. Her large capable hands methodically kneaded the bread dough. 'Aye, you do that, Mr. Jenkins. His lordship will put things right.'

Jenkins chose the first opportunity that presented itself of informing Lord Northman of the strange set of affairs. Crossing the hall to the dining room he chanced to meet the marquess, who was on his way to inspect the stables. His lordship was attired in tan buckskins and top boots and a well-cut forest green coat and brass buttons that admirably set off his broad shoulders.

'My lord! If I may have a word with you…'

'Well, Jenkins?' asked Lord Northman, pausing to pull on his kid leather gloves.

The butler threw a glance around the hall before indicating that he wished the marquess to step into the dining room. Lord Northman did so, made curious by the butler's odd behavior. Jenkins turned to him and cleared his throat.

'I beg pardon for the inconvenience, your lordship. However, there is a matter of some importance I wished to appraise your lordship of in privacy.'

'Well, what is it, Jenkins? Has my nephew once again escaped his keepers?' asked the marquess with a smile.

'No, my lord. At least not yet,' said Jenkins. Amending his assurance. 'I wished to speak to you of Miss Stackhouse, my lord.'

Eric suddenly frowned. He thought he understood. The colonial was upsetting the traditional style of doing things and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were naturally offended.

'I take it that Miss Stackhouse presents a problem to you and Mrs. Jenkins?'

'Yes, my lord. That is to say. Not personally to us. But Miss Stackhouse is quite unlike any other lady that I have had occasion to become acquainted with,' said Jenkins, wallowing.

'Indeed, I too find her most uncommon,' said Eric. He nodded to the butler. 'Very well, I shall speak with Miss Stackhouse. I shall not have her upsetting you and Mrs. Jenkins with her American way of doing things. You may be assured the she will know her place and not interfere with you in future.'

Jenkins saw that he had not conveyed what he had intended. 'Oh no, my lord! It is nothing of the sort. Miss Stackhouse is no trouble to myself and Mrs. Jenkins. Quite the contrary! She is a delight, my lord. It is just, well…'

'Spit it out, man!' said the marquess impatiently.

'She is not behaving as a lady should and–'

'What?' His lordship's tone was thunderous. His mind leaped to one scenario after another, none of which reflected well on Miss Susannah Stackhouse.

Jenkins whitened a little and hurriedly finished what he wanted to say. 'Miss Stackhouse is _cleaning_, sir! Mrs. Jenkins and myself, we do not consider it to be proper employment for a lady to be polishing the furniture and sweeping out the grates.'

'Sweeping out the grates?' repeated Eric, stupefied by the utter banality.

Jenkins nodded. 'Aye, my lord. And polishing the furniture. It isn't seemly, sir.'

Eric recovered himself. 'Certainly it is not. I shall attend to the matter at once, Jenkins. I take it Miss Stackhouse is at this moment occupied with her odd hobby?' The butler nodded as he opened the dining room door. As Eric stepped into the main hall, the butler pointed up at the partial balcony where a door stood open.

Sookie looked at the clock on the mantel with a groan. Tara had left some minutes before to collect Hunter and make certain that he was suitably cleaned and attired to take the noonday meal with his mother. Sookie elected to finish polishing the last piece of furniture in the sitting room before she went to freshen up and change for luncheon. But the time had gotten away from her and the advanced hour caught her by surprise.

'Well, I shall just be late to the table,' she said.

Exhausted as she was by her exertions, she had the satisfaction of being able to look about her and see that the room looked itself again.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the gilded mirror above the mantel, Sookie grimaced. A streak of dirt marked her forehead where she had brushed the back of her hand. She was perspiring and her gown was crumpled to a thousand wrinkles. Her hair, once neatly pinned at the crown of her head, had come undone and hung in loose waves almost to her waist. Sookie pulled her hair over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose.

'Well, I present a fine picture.'

'Indeed, Miss Stackhouse,' said a male voice devoid of expression.

Sookie whirled and met the eyes of the Marquess of Huntley. He stood there in the doorway and coolly his gaze went over her. Sookie coloured hotly. It was one thing to have planned to make a point with his lordship by dressing this way, but it was another to have him discover her in such untidy and soiled disarray. As Sookie took in the marquess' immaculate and nicely fitted riding clothes, she felt at a distinct disadvantage.

Eric closed the door and walked towards Sookie. 'I should like to speak privately with you, Miss Stackhouse.'

Sookie felt that stupid flutter in the pit of her stomach again. She walked over to a graceful settee covered in faded blue taffeta and seated herself. She laced her fingers together in her lap, at pains to project calm.

'This is unexpected indeed, my lord. I am all curiosity.'

Eric looked at Sookie, his gave somewhat frowning. 'Miss Stackhouse, I address you with the utmost reluctance, believe me.'

Sookie put up her shapely brows. 'This becomes more curious by the moment, my lord.'

'Yes, well, Miss Stackhouse, it has come to my attention that you have taken it upon yourself the burden of refurbishing Hardgrove Chase. It is a noble ambition but quite an improper one for my sister-in-law's cousin and guest to undertake,' said Eric.

Sookie was startled into laughter. Her eyes held a hint of derision. 'My dear sir, I am not so poor a creature that I can see what needs to be done and not do it. If it is your fear that I overstep myself, I have spoken to my cousin on the matter. Hadley does not object, I assure you.'

'Come, Susannah,' Eric said, using her name in an exasperated tone, 'surely you are not telling me that Hadley has been put in full knowledge of your activities!' He saw that she had the grace to appear a little guilty and he pressed his advantage. 'Susannah, I should be loathe to acquaint Hadley with the fact that her dearest cousin is acting as her housekeeper. It would naturally upset her to learn that you were not enjoying your stay at Hardgrove Chase as you should. Pray leave the cleaning to others more suited for it.'

Eric bowed and turned to take his leave, walking to the door and turning the handle.

'Oh? And who might those others be, my lord?' asked Sookie, causing Eric to turn and look at her. Her blue eyes were suddenly serious in expression. 'I suppose you expect my companion to take on the task. I must disillusion you, sir. Tara is already committed to me and to caring for your nephew. Or perhaps you envision poor Mrs. Jenkins on her knees scrubbing the floors between preparing meals?'

Eric's brow drew together in a deep frown as he stared at her. He had not given thought to the matter other than to agree with Jenkins that Miss Stackhouse was delving into what should not concern her. _Blast, Miss Stackhouse__and her sensible Yankee mind_, he thought disagreeably. She was right, of course. There was no one else. He was beginning to see that this visit to Hardgrove Chase was not destined to be like any other. With reluctance he realised that the responsibility of the estate was placed squarely on his shoulders. Mrs. Savoy was certainly not in any condition to attend to her duties and he had virtually ordered Miss Stackhouse to mind her own business.

'I suppose the thing to do is to hire a proper housekeeper and perhaps a maid or two,' he said lamely.

'A laudable thought, my lord,' Sookie said in mock commendation. 'And perhaps a footman _or two_ would also be in line. I should ask Jenkins' advice, but of course you have already thought of that,' said Sookie derisively. 'And who is to interview the applicants and make the decisions?' Sookie was aware that she was pushing him against the wall and she enjoyed the sensation heartily.

There was a flare of irritation in the marquess' eyes. He looked at Sookie with distinct dislike. 'I shall attend to the matter myself.'

'Indeed,' said Sookie appraisingly. ''Well, my lord, I see you are a gentlemen of _unusual_ talents. I would not have suspected that a London beau would be familiar with the hiring and outfitting of a household,' said Sookie in a bland tone.

Eric stared at her a moment longer. 'I find your manners atrocious, ma'am.'

'I believe that your previous observation was "graceless colonial manners", was it not, my lord?' asked Sookie. She gave him a mocking curtsy and bestowed an amiable smile on him.

Eric could not help that despite her unruly appearance and prickly behaviour he still found her comely with her golden hair tumbled over her shoulder and her flashing blue eyes.

_Damnable woman! Blast her fine blue eyes to Hades! _Eric audibly ground his teeth. He yanked open the sitting room door and strode down the stairs. Upon descending, he found Jenkins hovering in the hall.

'My lord? Will you be wanting luncheon?' the butler asked timidly.

The marquess did not bother to pause in his swift progress. 'I am going riding, Jenkins. I do not know how long it will be before I return.'

The door that gave access to the back of the house was closed sharply behind him. At hearing a peal of soft laughter, Jenkins turned a bewildered gaze up to Miss Stackhouse, who stood at the balustrade above.

Sookie shook her head at the butler. 'Pray do not be so concerned, Jenkins. His lordship has a bee in his bonnet because I pointed out to him that someone will need to hire a housekeeping staff. I somehow do not think Lord Northman is looking forward to the task.'

She glanced down at herself. 'Well, fiddlesticks! Just look at me! I believe that I shall freshen up now. Pray, Jenkins, please have Tara send up the bath. This guise has served its purpose quite admirably, but I believe I should like to wear something more fitting for the dining room.'

Blithely ignoring Jenkins' appalled expression, Sookie tripped away to her bedroom, humming to herself.

'And that,' as Jenkins very soon related to his spellbound wife, 'is just the way she said it. I very much think that Miss Susannah _meant_ to provoke his lordship. To nudge him into action, what with her working so diligent-like at the cleaning and whatnot.'

'I can't say that I approve of the way Miss Susannah went about it, but there is no gainsaying that his lordship would hardly have thought of doing anything on his own. What proper gentleman would, and especially one cut from London cloth as is his lordship!' said Mrs. Jenkins. She pursed her lips as she stirred the broth for that evening's side dish. 'It will be interesting to watch, Mr. Jenkins, mark my words.'

He did not quite follow his wife's thoughts. 'What will, Mrs. Jenkins?'

But she only shook her head. 'It will be interesting indeed. Only wait, Mr. Jenkins.' He shrugged, dismissing the remark as one of Mrs. Jenkins' indecipherable musings, and turned to his duties.


	6. Charm Personified

**A/N: OMG! Who watched True Blood last night? How adorable was an amnesiac Eric (sigh)? ASkars was _sooo _cute last night. Such a great actor! When Sookie washed his feet and he giggled cause it tickled... awwwww... and when he drained Claudine and Sookie said 'You just ate my fairy godmother!' and Eric gave her this really sheepish look - too damn cute! They really need to hurry it up with that shower scene! Sorry if I've ruined it for anyone who hasn't watched it yet!  
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**Anyway, here is chapter 6. We delve a bit deeper into Eric's psyche and really start to see the beginnings of... hmm... _something... _I'm building it up people, I'm building it up, but I think it will start to speed up in the next few chapters and we will start to see the introduction of some new characters to stir up the pot!**

**Thank you to all who reviewed, alerted, and favourited this story, as well as those who are reading it. I hope you'll find this chapter funny and enjoyable. I found it an immense pleasure to write. I am just loving this incarnation of Sookie and Eric.**

**I will probably not get the next chapter up for a while as I am in the middle of a move. The bf and I bought a flat a few months ago and finally get to move in on Wednesday! Hurrah! So between that and work, my next two weeks will be pretty hectic. I will try to get a chapter (probably a short one) out by the end of the week of the 18th July, if possible, but I can't make any promises.  
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**Well, without further adieu, here is chapter 6 - Hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think!**

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 6: Charm Personified<em>**

Sookie ate luncheon in solitary splendour. Jenkins served her with all the pomp that he would bring to a party of twelve and Sookie enjoyed the novelty. Though she and Jason had come from a family well versed in observing social customs, Sookie could only marvel at the formalness of the English way. The South being the South, strict social rules were only mandatory when entertaining. She was perfectly prepared to serve herself and more than once it was on the tip of her tongue to dismiss Jenkins, but she sensed that if she did so it would gravely offend the butler.

When she was finished, she thanked him for his attentiveness. Jenkins was gratified by her appreciation and bowed deeply as she left the dining room. 'A fine lady is Miss Susannah,' he said to himself.

Sookie made her way upstairs to visit with her cousin. It had become her custom to sit with Hadley for an hour or two during the early afternoon and it was time they both enjoyed. On this particular day, Sookie found her cousin sitting up on a blue satin-covered settee by the bedroom window where she could look down on the knot garden below. Dappled sunlight gently warmed her face so that she did not appear as pale as before. Hadley stretched out her hand in welcome.

'Sookie! I have been waiting for you these several minutes. Have you enjoyed your morning, cousin?'

'Indeed, cousin. I have enjoyed it immensely. My expectations for the morning were far exceeded,' said Sookie smiling. She bent to lightly kiss her cousin's soft cheek. She saw the immediate inquiry in Hadley's eyes and laughed as she seated herself in the rosewood chair opposite the chaise.

'I fear that you shall think me the greatest beast in nature, Hadley, but I have actually extracted a promise from Lord Northman that he will see about gathering together a household staff. Now do not eat me! It was his own decision, after all. I merely pointed out the need.'

Hadley settled back against her cushions. 'Somehow I cannot picture Eric in the role of agent. He is such a – a _laughing _sort, if you catch my meaning. One could never think of him as being serious more than a moment or two at best.'

Recalling the marquess' irritated expression, Sookie said, 'Oh, I rather think Lord Northman was quite serious about the matter. And it will surely be a relief to you, dear Hadley, to know that Hardgrove Chase will soon have the attention it deserves.'

'Yes, of course, cousin. But Eric! He knows nothing about servants except to notice when they are absent if he needs them. Sookie, you must promise me that you shall quietly advise him,' said Hadley.

'I! Why, I hardly know the gentleman, and frankly, his lordship hardly strikes me as one who would take kindly to advice, however well intended,' said Sookie.

Hadley waved aside her objections. 'I am certain that you shall get along famously with him, Sookie. You both are so well matched, in your interests and pursuits, your mutual love of life. Besides, cousin, you have such a friendly way about you that one cannot help but respond. And _Eric_, why he is _ever_ so charming, wouldn't you agree?' But before Sookie could reply, Hadley rushed on. 'Do say that you will do it, Sookie. It will ease my mind to know that I shall not end up with some awful woman in charge of my home.'

'Oh my dear, of course, I shall help in any way that I can,' said Sookie, keeping private her conviction that Lord Northman would rather consign her to Beelzebub himself than take any advice from her. She and the marquess had gotten off to such a rousing beginning and the dissention between them had certainly not abated. But she would not willingly erase the grateful and unsuspecting smile from Hadley's face.

'Tell me how you are feeling today. You appear far more rested than previously.'

'Indeed, I am sleeping easier now. I think your teas have much to do with that. Oh, Sookie, I feel so much better. This morning Hunter expressed his surprise and pleasure to see his mama sitting up. He is such a sensitive child. My illness has weighed heavily on him, I think. I am so pleased that you have taken my boy under your wing. He appears more content than he did before your arrival,' said Hadley.

'I think that is more Tara's influence than mine. She is excellent with children, you know, and Hunter just adores her. Also, he feels usefully employed now that he is helping with the horses. And he seems quite attached to his uncle,' said Sookie.

'Oh yes. Eric has always been marvelous with Hunter. They are very attached to one another. One would not think it to look at him, but Eric actually likes children. So many gentlemen do not, you know. They cannot stand to have the small ones fussing about them. But Eric has never minded it when Hunter nosed into his things or mussed up his cravat. It is really very odd since the Marquess of Huntley is known in London for such a smart. Remy is forever teasing Eric for what he calls his brother's dandyism, but for myself I hold sneaking admiration for a gentleman who carries himself so well,' said Hadley.

Sookie made a decided effort to change the subject. She thought she had heard enough about the marquess' sterling qualities when she knew that his lordship was at heart a mere seeker of self-gratification.

'But tell me, Hadley, when does the doctor next visit?'

'Oh, such a boring topic. Very well! I can see that you will not leave it until I satisfy you. He is to come Thursday week. My strength is still not quite up to what it should be, but each day I can feel myself gaining in vigor. It will be soon, I think, that the good doctor will allow me to return downstairs and begin resuming my normal existence.' She waved an encompassing hand at her bedroom. 'I am so tired of these four walls. I think I shall change the colour as soon as I am able. In the past weeks I have truly learned to detest this particular shade of blue.'

'I can well imagine, cousin,' Sookie laughed. 'Have you given any thought to what colour you shall replace it with?' asked Sookie. The conversation turned to a lively discussion of shades of rose and damask draperies and upholstery.

When Sookie left her cousin some two hours later she was satisfied that Hadley was truly on the mend. She had not tired so quickly during the visit and there was a definite glow in her face. As Sookie walked down the stairs, sliding her hand along the sleek banister, she heard a quick step on the marble tiles of the hall and the marquess came into view.

'Good afternoon, my lord,' Sookie called cheerfully.

Lord Northman bowed. He stood waiting for her to finish her descent, his unfathomable gaze following her progress. When Sookie reached the bottom stair, she paused with her hand on the newel post to look at him with a cool air. With the advantage of the stair her eyes were nearly level with his.

'Is there something the matter, my lord?' she asked, feigning concern.

'Not at all, Miss Stackhouse. I have but this moment returned from a ride around the estate. I was not before aware of the extent of neglect that Hardgrove Chase has suffered. I have seen enough to suspect that my brother's estate manager was either an incompetent fool or a complete scoundrel. I wish to thank you for reminding me so graphically this morning that in my brother's absence not only does the responsibility of Hadley and Hunter fall to me, but so too does his estate,' said the marquess gravely.

Sookie was thrown off guard. For some reason she had assumed that the marquess would never acknowledge anything that might point to an error in his own judgment. But here he was offering her both apology and gratitude at one and the same time. For lack of anything to say, she inclined her head.

'I wish also to ask a favour of you, Miss Stackhouse. I am lacking in experience in hiring a proper household, whereas I gather you are not,' said Lord Northman, his brow rising in quizzical inquiry.

'I managed my father's estate with my grandmother after his and my mother's death and continued to do so after my grandmother died,' said Sookie in reply to his unspoken question.

The marquess nodded with a slight smile. His voice took on a low tone when he next spoke. 'Then may I call on your advice in this matter? It would be of immense help to me, Susannah.'

The way he spoke her name unnerved Sookie and she felt an uncoiling in the pit of her stomach. 'If that is what you wish, my lord.'

'Please, Susannah. I thought we had decided to dispense with formalities. Shall you never call me Eric?' he asked gently.

Sookie looked at him with surprise, taking a small breath before finding her voice once again. 'As you wish, Eric. I shall be most happy to offer you whatever aid I can,' said Sookie, disconcerted further. It seemed that Lord Northman was actually concerned about the state of Hardgrove Chase. That did not fit into her picture of him as a sybarite, a man too selfish to please anyone but himself. She wondered if she had misjudged him.

Eric smiled. 'Thank you, Susannah. And I hope that you will not take it amiss if I observe that your appearance is vastly improved over what it was this morning,' he said, admiring her afternoon dress of light muslin in a pale rose with a cream fichu tucked into the low neckline.

Sookie coloured faintly. She shook her head. 'I am not at all offended, my lor–Eric. I own quite freely that I looked a perfect quiz. Well,' said Sookie suddenly, 'you must be famished after your ride. Shall I ring for Jenkins to serve you a late luncheon?'

'Thank you, Susannah. A plate of sandwiches in the study will be all that I require. I wish to begin going over the papers dealing with the estate this afternoon,' said Eric. He excused himself and started upstairs to change out of his riding attire.

Sookie watched his broad back for a few seconds, admiring the way the green cloth clung handsomely to his form, before she went in search of Jenkins. After speaking to the butler, she made her way out of the house to the gardens. She thought it would be pleasant to stroll slowly among the beds and breathe the fresh summer air after playing all morning at parlour maid.

Unbeknownst to Sookie, the marquess watched her meandering form from the privacy of the study window.

_What is it about Miss Stackhouse that affects me so? _Eric thought to himself. _Aye, she is a beauty, but I have seen ladies far more beautiful than she. Is it her quick wit and biting tongue? Nay, for both irritate me to no end. But, even I must admit, they amuse me. She amuses me. She is utterly without guile, yet I find myself completely charmed by her manner. _

A knock at the door pulled Eric from his thoughts. Reluctantly, he moved away from the window.

'Enter!' The door opened and Jenkins walked in with Eric's luncheon tray of sandwiches and tea.

'Your luncheon, my lord.'

'Thank you, Jenkins. Please place it on the table there,' said Eric, looking once more out the window. He watched in fascination as Sookie plucked a perfectly formed summer rose from a bush, smelling it delicately, before pinning it to the side of her loose chignon.

'A charming lady is Miss Stackhouse,' stated Jenkins, following Eric's gaze out the window.

'What?' Eric asked, distracted by the smile that lit Sookie's face as she held it up to the afternoon sun.

'Begging your lordship's pardon. I only stated that Miss Stackhouse was a charming lady.'

'Indeed,' Eric said. 'How so, Jenkins?'

'Well, and I am sure your lordship will agree, despite Miss Stackhouse's _unusual_ manners, there is something in her way that puts one at ease.'

'Quite Jenkins,' Eric said, no longer willing to hear Sookie's myriad virtues extolled by the help.

'Will that be all, my lord?' Jenkins asked, sensing the shift in the marquess' mood.

'Yes, Jenkins, thank you.'

Jenkins nodded his head and quickly exited the study, leaving Eric to his thoughts for the rest of the afternoon.

At dinner, Eric announced to Sookie that he had spoken with his sister-in-law about the neglect he had seen during his ride about Hardgrove Chase and in the house itself.

'I found also that my brother's records are in a shambles. It will take several weeks to make sense of them. In the meantime, Hadley has given me carte blanche to hire a household staff and groundskeepers. I have already sent to my solicitor in London to begin screening appropriate persons for all positions except cook and butler. I am naturally more familiar with the duties of groundskeepers and such, so I must rely on you, Susannah, to guide me with the household staff,' said Eric.

'Of course, my–Eric. After our conversation on this topic I mentioned the matter to Jenkins, hoping that we might draw on his experience. He gave me good advice about how large a staff to engage and I've made a list of the number of footmen, and so on, so that you may pass it on to your solicitor,' said Sookie. She took the neatly folded sheet of paper out of her pocket and handed it to the marquess.

Eric looked at her as he unfolded the sheet. He perused it quickly, then put it inside his coat pocket. 'Quite comprehensive, Susannah,' he said. His tone was not markedly congratulatory. He was not certain that he cared for Sookie's independence of action. He was bothered she had not waited for his guidance, but he was irritated more that he had not thought to speak to Jenkins himself before he had written to his solicitor. _Damn her fine blue eyes!_

Sookie was quick to hear the reservation in his voice. She put up her brows. 'I believe that you are not best pleased, my lord. Why is this?'

Eric smiled but his eyes remained somewhat cool. 'I do not fault you, Susannah. Quite the contrary, your talk with Jenkins has yielded a goldmine of specific requirements.'

'But you disapprove that I should have acted on my own cognizance,' said Sookie with a flash of insight. She knew that she was right when she saw the slight stiffening in the marquess' easy posture.

'Not at all, _Susannah_. I wish only in future to be informed of your inspirations and notions so that we do not duplicate our efforts,' said Eric easily.

'Certainly, _Eric_. Just as I shall wish to be informed of your notions,' said Sookie smoothly. She smiled when the marquess' brows contracted. His gaze was frowning and she met it with friendly eyes.

'You are a devilish headstrong young woman,' said Eric irritably.

Sookie laughed, nodding her head agreeably. 'So my brother often tells me. I consider it the highest compliment,' said Sookie. She laid her napkin aside and rose from the table, smiling again at the marquess. 'Pray, excuse me, Eric. I have several _notions_ that I wish to put into commission. And certainly I shall keep you informed of my progress.' With that Sookie swept out of the dining room.

As the days passed, Eric discovered that his irritation with Susannah Stackhouse only increased. He could not seem to put her out of his mind and when he thought of her, he almost audibly ground his teeth. She both tempted and tormented him.

It was not that she was openly defiant or antagonistic toward him. On the contrary, Sookie was always polite and cheerful, solicitously requesting his opinion on whatever matter she had in hand.

And that was the crux of the matter, he thought. Even as she spoke to him so civilly, laughter lurked in the depths of her eyes as though she were offering to sop his ego. That was what galled him so. But still he could not put aside those feelings that he condemned as childish and unworthy of him. There was something about Miss Stackhouse that at once put him off and yet drew him to her. She was a colonial nobody, and a _southern_ one at that, who held little grace of manner toward her social superior.

_Oh yes, Sookie, I have been made perfectly aware that you are not impressed with me or my social status, _thought Eric, his gaze resting on Sookie's profile as she pointed out to him the particulars of a list that she had drawn up. The sunlight coming in the study window highlighted the purity of her skin, the smooth, soft curve of her cheek, the fullness of her rose lips. He wondered if she would be so indifferent if he were to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. The stray thought startled him. Then the faintest of smiles crossed his face.

Sookie chanced to glance up at that moment. The pleasantness of his expression knocking her sideways. When she had first come into the study, she had not thought Lord Northman was in a particularly benevolent mood.

'Do you not agree, Eric? Mrs. Jenkins assures me that these particular items are essential if we are to have a well-run house.'

Eric tore his gaze from her lips. 'I bow to your judgment, Susannah. My only consideration would be to consult with Hadley. She will have her own notions of what a well-run household should provide,' said Eric.

'Naturally I shall talk to my cousin. Do you know, I have a slight suspicion that Hadley is actually relieved that someone other than herself is organising her house. It is an attitude I cannot understand,' said Sookie.

'But my sister-in-law is not so self-sufficient as yourself, Susannah. Naturally, she relies on my brother to guide and advise her,' said Eric.

Sookie wondered if Eric was not so subtly pointing up what he considered a flaw in her feminine character. She was well aware of his arrogant assumption that he was entitled to preferential treatment, especially from any female who happened to cross his path. Certainly the way he carried himself made one instinctively defer to him. The faintly derisive light in his eyes and the mobility of his stern mouth added to his brooding good looks. Sookie was honest enough to admit to herself that she _was_ intrigued by the Marquess of Huntley, but she thought she had managed to resist succumbing to his attraction. She studied his face to see if he was throwing down yet another gauntlet, but his expression revealed nothing more than friendliness.

'If Hadley has no objections, I shall inform Mrs. Jenkins that she may purchase these necessary items when next she goes shopping in the village,' said Sookie, picking up her list and leaving the study to seek out Hadley.

As a result of the earlier shopping trip undertaken by Mrs. Jenkins with Tara and Hunter, word had swiftly spread through the countryside that there was no danger of pox at Hardgrove Chase. The village doctor had been saying the same for weeks and he enjoyed needling those who had condemned him for treating Mrs. Savoy. The doctor, Mr. John Turpin, was a young and handsome man, no more than one and thirty, lately come from London, the old doctor having retired six months past. At his suggestion, and much to his satisfaction, a very worthy woman of his acquaintance, named Amelia Broadway, applied for the post of lady's maid to Mrs. Savoy and was taken on.

When the doctor paid his Thursday visit to Hardgrove Chase, he was in the greatest of spirits as he told of the turn-around of opinion in the village and surrounding countryside. His dark brows wagged with his enthusiastic talk. 'Aye, you should see their faces now, Mrs. Savoy. Your neighbours are shame-faced to have neglected you in the past weeks. Do not be surprised if you should receive a flurry of morning calls,' he said as he finished his examination.

'But shall I be up to receive the visitors?' asked Hadley.

'Indeed you shall, Mrs. Savoy. I perceive no reason why you cannot begin going downstairs again this very evening,' said the doctor expansively.

'There, Hadley! We shall have you presiding at the dinner table at last,' said Sookie pleased.

After a few minutes, the doctor took leave of his patient and Sookie accompanied him downstairs to the door. She held out her hand to him. 'I am so glad for the news you have given my cousin, sir. She has been somewhat restless these last few days with just thinking about the possibility of leaving her room.'

Eric stepped out of the study and walked over to the balustrade, observing Sookie and the doctor. His jaw clenched and his teeth ground as he watched the doctor take Sookie's proffered hand. He held it just a bit too long to Eric's agitated thinking.

The doctor bowed low over Sookie's hand. 'I am happy to have been of service, Miss Stackhouse. It always gratifies me to be able to relate good news. And may I say that I am most pleased to have made your acquaintance. Before you came upstairs, Mrs. Savoy was telling me how your presence had brought her greater peace of mind than she had at any other time during her illness. I believe that factor alone may have contributed a powerful positive influence and accelerated her recovery. And if not your presence, then certainly your beauty and pleasing grace,' he finished roguishly.

'You flatter me, doctor, but I thank you,' Sookie said smiling.

'Well, Miss Stackhouse, I must take my leave, but I do hope to call on you under more social circumstances.'

The doctor bowed to Sookie once more then hitched himself up into his gig and shook out his reins. The horse between the traces started off docilely and the gig rolled smoothly away down the drive.

Sookie turned back inside the house and Jenkins closed the door. Sookie found the marquess regarding her from the foot of the stairs.

'The sawbones seems a pleasant enough fellow,' Eric said bitingly.

Sookie was taken aback by the hostility she heard in the marquess' tone and noted the tenseness of his jaw. 'Quite. I was pleased both with his professional manner and his good nature. I can well understand the faith that Hadley has in him,' said Sookie.

'I detected in his manner a strong partiality for you, Susannah,' drawled Eric.

'What utter nonsense, Eric. The doctor is merely kind to a stranger,' countered Sookie.

'Indeed. Once again, I bow to your superior judgment, Miss Stackhouse,' said Eric. He smiled tightly as he climbed the stairs and re-entered the study, closing the door with more force than was necessary.

'Infuriating, wretched man!' fumed Sookie under her breath.

'Beg pardon, miss?'

Sookie turned to the butler with an innocent smile. 'Oh nothing, Jenkins. I was just admiring his lordship's charm and impeccable manners.'

'Indeed, Miss Susannah, his lordship is charm personified,' Jenkins said.

Sookie held back the derisive snort bubbling in her throat and smiled sweetly at the butler as she headed to the kitchen to inform Mrs. Jenkins of Hadley's return to the dinner table that evening.

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><p><strong><em>Read and review! <em>**


	7. Are You Flirting With Me?

**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed, alerted, and favourited this story, as well as those who are reading it!  
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**Sorry I've been AWOL, but my move was a bit nuts fraught with all sorts of problems and craziness, but I finally have internet up and running and can post this chapter. It's shorter than usual, but it's all I can manage right now. **

****Oh and did you see the interview with Askars, Kristin Bauer, Nelsan Ellis and Alan Ball at Comic-Con? So cute and funny!** There is also a 2 minute long preview of the weeks ahead on TB on HBO. You should definitely watch it if you haven't already. There are some very promising scenes between E&S!  
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**Anyway, here's chapter 7! I hope to get the next one up by Friday. let me know what you think!**

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong><em>Chapter 7: Are You Flirting With Me?<em>**

That evening was a particularly nice one. Hadley came downstairs leaning heavily on her brother-in-law's arm, looking beautiful and frail in a soft cream satin gown ruffed about the neck with Belgian lace. She was seated at the head of the candlelit table, flanked by her son and Sookie. Tara sat beside Hunter in case he should begin to fidget. The marquess not unhappily found himself seated next to Sookie. Hadley looked about the table with content. The only face missing was Remy's, but even that could not dim her pleasure in being able to come downstairs and join her family, she thought.

Hunter was thrilled to sit at dinner downstairs rather than being brought a tray in the nursery. Hoping that this evening would mark the end of his nursery days, he was mindful of both his manners and his deportment. His thick unruly hair was carefully combed and his attire clean and sharply pressed. He fairly glowed when his mother complimented him for his gentlemanly conduct.

Sookie was pleased for the boy and she signaled her approval to him with a conspiratorial wink. She little knew that someone at the table noted her sparkling eyes and soft beauty with admiration. Sookie had chosen a deep lavender gown of silk that brought out the dark shade of her eyes and highlighted her golden skin. The square bodice was low cut across the bosom, to reveal a glimmer of shadow between her well-formed breasts. She wore her shining hair in a plated chignon that set off her slender neck, adorned with a double string of her grandmother's pearls that matched the pearls gleaming in her ears.

Eric's eyes often strayed to the tantalizing glimpse of Sookie's shapely bosom and he was acutely aware of the warm feminine scent of her perfume. He found her vivacious speech pleasing to his ears. Idly, he contemplated her full, plump lips, his thoughts wandering pleasantly from the conversation.

'And Eric, I wish to see you enjoying yourself more as well.'

Eric dragged his attention from Sookie's beauteous bounty and back to the conversation. 'What, Hadley?'

'Oh, Eric! Surely you are not woolgathering tonight over business. Sookie has told me how hard you are working with the estate and though I appreciate it, I do not want you to bury yourself in the study. It cannot be how you planned to entertain yourself at Hardgrove Chase,' said Hadley.

'Hadley, you know me better than that, If I did not enjoy it I should not do it,' said Eric. He intercepted a swift glance from Sookie and wondered at her expression. Surely he had not seen annoyance in her eyes. He looked at her more closely, but she had lowered her lashes and he could no longer read her expression. 'Perhaps Susannah feels that entertainment is scarce at Hardgrove Chase, but I do not,' he said quietly.

Sookie glanced at him, startled. Surely he did not expect her to believe that he wasn't pining away for London and all its attractions. He met her gaze steadily and Sookie was the first to look away. The marquess had shown remarkable concentration in pulling the estate together. According to what she gathered from Jenkins, he rarely sat long over his wine, preferring instead to work into the night.

_Perhaps I have done him an injustice_, she thought reluctantly.

'This is just my point, Eric! Both you and Sookie are sitting here bored to tears, and I shall believe neither of your claims to the contrary. _I_ know what it is like to spend week upon week with idle time on one's hands. So not another word of protest from either of you. Once it is learned that I am well, I expect to have invitations from about the neighbourhood. Sookie, I insist that you accompany me to whatever functions we are invited to, and as for you, Eric, I expect that we may rely upon you for escort,' said Hadley.

'In short, you insist that we are to be civilly entertained,' said Eric. There was a smile lurking in his eyes.

'Yes, Eric, I do so insist,' said Hadley, laughing at him.

Eric sighed and with a shrug turned to Sookie. 'Our fate is sealed, Susannah. It is of no use to beg off, for our captor is heartless and will no doubt lock us in our rooms and feed us thin gruel until we capitulate.'

His nephew's eyes rounded. 'Really, Uncle Eric? Will Mama really do that?'

That brought laughter from around the table. Still grinning, Eric nodded at his nephew. 'I am sorry to say so, but yes. Your mother can be a very stern lady when she chooses.'

Hadley leaned forward and put an arm about her son's shoulders and hugged him. 'Your naughty uncle is funning again, Hunter. Not that I won't feed him thin gruel if he does not behave himself, mind. Now, poppet, I think it is time for you to go up to bed. Your eyes are nearly closing. Miss Thornton, if you will be so kind as to accompany him?'

Tara nodded her head and rose. Hunter dutifully kissed his mother and went out of the dining room with Tara. Hadley looked after them a moment then turned to Eric.

'There is one detail you may look into for me, Eric. I should like a regular governess or tutor to be engaged for Hunter. It is not right that Tara should be obliged to look after him when she has her own duties to attend to.'

'I can assure you that Tara does not mind it in the least,' said Sookie. 'And between her and Jenkins, as well as myself and Eric, Hunter is far less likely to fall into mischief than before.'

'Yes, I know. You are all marvelous with Hunter. But Tara is also your companion and maid, Sookie, and Jenkins also has a position to maintain. It is not fair to expect such double duty for them,' said Hadley.

'I agree, Hadley. I shall look into it immediately and see if I cannot scrape up a proper bear-leader for Hunter,' said Eric.

'What a thing to say! Bear-leader indeed! Of course, Hunter can be – nevertheless, Eric, I take exception to your term,' said Hadley, half-laughing and half-serious.

The marquess chuckled, his eyes dancing wickedly. 'I bow to a mother's blind eyes, Hadley.'

Hadley had the grace to blush. 'I suppose I do think of Hunter as being more saintly than he is.'

'Hunter is hardly saintly, cousin. I would say he is a normal, spirited, and lovable child,' said Sookie.

Her cousin flashed her a beautific smile. 'Thank you, Sookie,' said Hadley.

'How admirably you have smoothed the maternal feathers,' murmured Eric in Sookie's ear.

Sookie pretended that the warmth of his breath against the tender flesh of her ear did not send tiny shivers dancing up her spine. She rose from the table saying, 'Hadley, why do we not leave his lordship to enjoy his wine?'

Hadley agreed and the ladies shortly made their way into the drawing room. Hadley settled into a deep armchair near the fire with an exhausted sigh. Sookie looked at her with concern.

'Shall I call for Jenkins?'

Hadley shook her head. 'No, no. I am fine, truly. I am only a little fatigued by my first excursion. I shall be better presently.'

'Very well, cousin. If you do not mind it, I shall play a little on the pianoforte,' said Sookie.

'Oh, I should like it above all things. Music is so soothing to the ear after sitting at table, do you not think?' said Hadley.

Sookie sat down at the pianoforte. Playing softly, she soon became engrossed in the music and her thoughts floated with it. Without being conscious of it, she began to sing in a low rich voice, a song which was the favourite of her grandmother. A song of lost-love and broken-hearts, filled with such longing and sorrow.

So lost was she in the music, she was not aware of it when Eric entered the room and paused, his expression registering surprise. Quietly, he crossed the carpet and seated himself behind her to listen. A few moments later Jenkins came in with the tea urn. The marquess silently gestured for him to leave the service on the sideboard. Jenkins did so and departed, softly closing the drawing room door behind him.

Eric listened in awed silence as Sookie's melodious voice washed over him. He watched with pleasure as the candlelight flickered and bathe her magnificent form in gold as her fingers glided over the keys with mastery. He heard the longing in her voice and a longing, unbidden, rose within him. In that moment, he desired above all else to answer her siren's call, to take her in his arms and lose himself within her.

_Where have these feelings come from? _Eric thought_. How have I lost myself so completely to this slip of a girl?__ Tis__ madness…_

Sookie had played for some time before she chanced to look up at the clock mantel. She was startled to see that it was ten o'clock. She had played uninterrupted for an hour and a half. She was dismayed she had neglected her cousin for so long. Immediately she stopped and turned on the bench.

'Hadley–' She was startled to meet Eric's penetrating gaze.

'You are quite accomplished, Susannah. It has been a long time since I have enjoyed a musical evening half so well. If I were a man free with words, I would say you sing like an angel,' said Eric quietly.

Sookie felt warmth rise in her face. It was disconcerting to realize that he had been listening. 'Thank you, Eric. Hadley–' Her glance went to her cousin and she saw that Hadley was fast asleep in the chair.

'She was asleep when I came in and I did not wish to disturb her. I suspect that your lovely voice acted as a soothing soporific,' said Eric.

Sookie blushed again at his compliment. She wondered why he honoured her so extravagantly when there were probably many musical events that filled the marquess' usual social schedule. 'I knew that Hadley was more exhausted than she let on. She wouldn't allow me to call Jenkins,' said Sookie.

'I do not think Hadley will take any harm from falling asleep in a chair. We will rouse her in a few minutes,' said Eric. He indicated the tea urn. 'Do you care for tea?'

'Yes, I would.' Sookie rose from the pianoforte bench and followed the marquess over to the sideboard. She was surprised when he insisted upon serving her.

Eric gestured to the settee in front of the fireplace. Sookie accepted his invitation and gracefully seated herself. The marquess sat at the other end of the green damask-covered settee and balanced his cup and saucer on crossed knees

'You are a singularly unusual female, Susannah. Have I told you?'

'Not in so many words, no. I believe that you have touched upon my abominable manners and head-strong tendencies,' said Sookie dryly.

'And I swear that every word I uttered was true. You and I are so often at loggerheads that I have been behind in noticing that you are also a lady of wit, talent and great beauty,' said Eric with a charming smile.

Sookie looked at Eric, startled for a brief moment by his praise.

'Thank you, my lord. I am sure that is a high compliment, coming from you. I could almost suspect you of setting up a flirt with me,' said Sookie with a smile. She picked up her cup to put it to her lips.

Eric set aside his tea on an occasional table before moving closer. He leaned back and stretched one arm across the back of the settee. His fingers softly stroked Sookie's shoulder. His gaze dropped briefly to her deep décolletage before he spoke.

'I believe that I am… _Sookie_.'

Sookie's cup rattled loudly in the saucer. She stared at him, disconcerted. There was an intensity is his ice blue eyes that made her heart begin to race. With a wavering laugh she tried to pass over the moment.

'Once again, my lord, I fear I must correct you for I do not think we are at the point of our acquaintance where you may call me that,' said Sookie with a shaky voice.

Eric seemed to take no notice of her interjection. He moved closer, bringing up his hand to gently touch her silken cheek. 'Ah, but you see, Susannah, I fully intend to remedy that,' Eric said in a seductive tone, moving ever closer, their lips but a few short breaths apart.

For a long moment Sookie was transfixed by his expression, his rough touch upon her cheek, allowing herself for the briefest moment to drown in his eyes. Eric drew closer still and as she felt the bare whisper of his lips upon hers, she gave herself up to the sensation, until a vision of her former fiancée rose before her mind's eye. Abruptly she leaped up, her nervous hands letting go of the cup and saucer. The china shattered across the Oriental carpet.

Eric also stood, reaching out a hand to Sookie. 'Susannah, I –'

'No, Eric, please,' Sookie said, as she backed away further, bumping into the side of the occasional table, causing Eric's cup and saucer to rattle loudly.

The noise awakened Hadley, who roused slowly. 'Oh, I do say, have I been asleep? So rude of me, I am sure.' She blinked at her cousin, who stood motionless with an odd expression on her face. 'Why, Sookie, you have spilled your tea! And your skirt is stained. Why, it is positively ruined!'

Sookie recovered herself. 'It is of no consequence. I am sorry for the cup and saucer, Hadley. I do not know how I came to be so clumsy. Pray excuse me.' She said in a distressed voice, quickly leaving the drawing room, passing Jenkins in the doorway. The butler had heard the sound of breakage and had come in to sweep away the pieces.

Hadley was a bit startled by her cousin's hasty departure and obvious distress. 'What on earth? It was only a bit of china.'

Eric endeavoured to turn her attention. 'Hadley, allow me to escort you upstairs to your room. I am on my way to bed myself. It has been a singularly pleasant evening, but I believe that we are all a little fatigued,' he said, bending over his sister-in-law and offering her the support of his arm. Hadley accepted his aid with a smile.

The marquess chatted companionably to his sister-in-law as they climbed slowly up the stairs and made their way to her door. He handed her into the care of her maid, Amelia, before going on to his own apartments.

As he passed the rooms given over to Sookie, a faint smile crossed his face. _I have her_, he thought to himself. He had felt it in that brief moment when their lips met. And then she'd bolted. Susannah Stackhouse had bolted like a startled doe. He found that curious. _Perhaps she is as affected by me as I am by her_? As he entered his rooms, Lord Eric Northman, Marquess of Huntley, was whistling to himself.

Sookie lay with her face pressed against her pillow, willing her tears to subside. After dismissing Tara, she had flung herself on her bed and unleashed a torrent of tears. Eric's startling announcement had thrown her into a state of confused anguish. She was astonished to discover within herself regret that she had rejected his advances, pushed him away when he'd kissed her. Sookie touched her lips and remembered the way his lips felt against hers. How his breath warmed her cheek, his smell enveloped her lungs and the way his wheat-coloured hair shone in the soft candlelight.

But she was also angry with herself. Angry at how easily she could set aside the wariness that her last experience with a gentleman's professed regard had engendered in her.

Sookie thought it best to keep Lord Northman at arm's length. He was a London beau and obviously an accomplished flirt. She could not shake the conviction that he was toying with her.

_'_I will be damned if I allow myself to be fooled by another William Compton! Eric Northman will _not_ tempt me. I swear it on Gran's grave!' exclaimed Sookie aloud as her tears finally subsided.

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><p><em><strong>R&amp;R! Next chapter: the neighbours, a country dance, and more flirting...<strong>  
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	8. The Great Declaration

**A/N:Wow! So how hot was the sex scene with ASkars and APaq in last Sunday's TB? Not quite the shower scene I was hoping for, but I'll take it! I absolutely loved last Sunday's episode. There was just so much going on that was excellent. Eric is just sooooo adorable - seriously LOVE how ASkars is palying Eric right now! Jessica and Jason - oh yes, please! God, do I hate King Bill! And Marnie/Antonia - pretty badass!  
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**So big thanks to everyone following, reading and reviewing this story - I love your comments! They get me through my long days and make me smile. I know I don't churn out the chapters as quickly as some authors on this site, but I want to make sure that what I put out is of a high quality with little to no errors and that it makes complete sense. I don't have a beta so it takes me a while to edit my stories and iron out any typos or plotholes that may crop up. So thank you guys for being patient and wonderful! I 'm not very good at responding to all your comments, but I love and appreciate them all the same!**

**Would also like to thank Ms Jane Austen as I lifted one or two lines directly from P&P and all you Austen aficionados will definitely be able to spot the lines. And I think this chapter clearly shows P&P's influence on my story. Also, the song that Sookie sings in this chapter is called "Weep You No More Sad Fountains". Marianne Dashwood, played beautifully by Kate Winslet, in the Emma Thompson film adaptation of _Sense and Sensibility_ sings it.  
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**Anyway, here is chapter 8. It's pretty long, I must warn you. I was going to break it up into two chapters but I promised you guys a dance scene and I didn't want to disappoint! **

**I wanted to stir things up so I have introduced a few more OCs and a bit of forseshadowing for upcoming conflict. There will be angst, people!**

**So, I hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think!  
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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 8:The Great Declaration<strong>_

The following day Sookie avoided the Marquess of Huntley as best she could. When she did chance to meet him, she was aware that he seemed amused at her expense and that brought an unbidden blush to her face. She managed to avoid the satiric look in his eyes and speak quite calmly to him.

'My lord,' she said.

'Ah, Susannah,' Eric said, smirking at Sookie. 'I was hoping I might persuade you to take a turn with me about the gardens this morning.'

'My lor–'

'Eric.'

'What?' Sookie asked, looking at Eric confused.

'It's Eric, Susannah, not "my lord",' Eric stated.

'Of course, Eric,' Sookie said acquiescing to his request.

'So, what do you say to my proposal?'

'Proposal?' Sookie said, trying to keep the alarm from her voice.

'Yes. My proposal to take a turn about the gardens…'

'Of course, Eric. I do beg your pardon, but I am afraid that a turn about the gardens is… quite impossible this morning.'

'Impossible?'

'Yes. For you see, I have a great many duties to attend to this morning,' Sookie said, hoping to convince him of her false statement. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Eric Northman for any length of time. 'So you see, Eric, it is quite impossible.' Sookie had started to turn on her heels when Eric's voice halted her.

'What sort of duties?'

'Beg pardon?'

'What duties? For I am sure, Hadley can spare you for one morning.'

'I–'

'Please, Susannah. It would be a great pleasure to have your company this morning,' Eric said, his voice becoming low and serious. 'There is much about the estate that still concerns me and I would find it most helpful were you to advise me in certain areas.'

'I am flattered, my lord,' Sookie said, surprised by his admission. 'You have never taken kindly to my interference before. What has caused this miraculous shift in your opinion of me?'

Eric stepped closer to Sookie and took her hand in his, boldly stroking the underside of her wrist. Sookie shivered. Eric smiled.

'You are a woman of considerable sense, Susannah. I would be a fool to ignore your sound advice. Besides, I find I crave your company. You amuse me.'

Sookie could not help but blush at his fine words. As she searched his face for any deception, she could not help but notice how blue his eyes were, how soft his lips. He looked particularly dashing this morning in his snugly-tailored dove gray riding coat and tightly-fitted fawn leather breeches tucked into a pair of gleaming Hessian boots. His short blonde hair was fashioned _à la Brutus_ and Sookie fought the urge to reach out and sweep it back.

_Careful, Sookie_, she thought. _Guard your heart._

'Susannah?' Eric asked smiling down at her.

Sookie pulled her hand from his and stepped back.

'I am sorry, my lord, but I must decline your offer.' Sookie turned quickly and practically ran up the stairs, not caring about proper etiquette or decorum.

'Susannah,' Eric called after her, but she ignored him, disappearing down the hall and he assumed into the safety of her rooms. Eric, having never experienced a woman rejecting his advances, stood in the hall staring after her in utter confusion.

'I do _not_ understand that _bloody_ woman!' Eric declared to no one in particular.

Jenkins walked out of the kitchen and into the great hall, having heard the marquess' loud exclamation.

'Did you need anything, my lord?'

'No, Jenkins. I do not,' said Eric testily, walking past Jenkins in a hurry to get to the stables. Perhaps a vigourous ride would rid him of this ridiculous infatuation with Susannah Stackhouse.

Later that morning, Jenkins came into the sitting room where Sookie was darning some sheets. He had gotten the post and there was the usual letter from her brother, Jason. Sookie immediately tore it open and perused it quickly. Jason wrote that he had done all he could with the port authorities and must now go to London to plead his case. He asked Sookie how she was getting along with their cousins and reminded her that she was certainly better amused than if she had stayed in Southampton. Sookie laughed a little at that when she thought of the difficulties of the neglected household and her dealings with a lively seven-year-old-boy. But it was the often prickly relationship between herself and Eric that she shook her head most over.

Jason concluded with the London address at which he would be staying. Sookie toyed with the idea of writing her brother with the latest particulars of the situation she had discovered at Hardgrove Chase, thinking that she could make it sound fairly amusing. But in the end she decided to say nothing that could possibly create anxiety in Jason about herself. _He was burdened enough with the fight for the _Adele_ and his separation from Tara_, Sookie thought. But she did miss him terribly. He was so supportive of her and she could have confided to him her confusion over the marquess' actions and her growing attraction.

Sookie sighed, placing the letter down on the side table next to the chair she was sitting on. She stood up and stretched, walking gingerly over to the windows which faced the trout lake and adjoining fields. In the distance she could make out a tall figure on a large black stallion. Sookie gasped and held her breath as Eric and his horse jumped a fence as they raced towards the wood beyond. His command of his horse made her heart race and her breaths come out on short pants. She couldn't tear her eyes from him. In a word, Eric was… _magnificent_, she thought.

The sound of Jenkins clearing his throat made Sookie jump in surprise. She pulled away from the window with a guilty expression on her face.

'What is it, Jenkins?'

'Sorry to disturb you Miss Susannah, but our first callers of the morning have arrived. They are waiting in the drawing-room.'

'Oh, of course, Jenkins. Have you informed Mrs. Savoy of our guests?'

'Yes, Miss Susannah. Mrs. Savoy wishes for you to meet her in her apartments so that you may greet them together.'

'Thank you, Jenkins. I shall go to Mrs. Savoy at once,' said Sookie heading for the door.

Sookie met Hadley in her apartments and helped her down the stairs. They entered the drawing room to meet their first callers, the elderly Reverend Bartholomew Atwell and his wife, Mrs. Lavinia Atwell. Hadley very graciously accepted their profuse apologies that they had not been to see her while she was ill.

During the course of the conversation, the reverend made a passing mention of the former owner of Hardgrove Chase, and Sookie curiously asked if he had been well acquainted with Mr. Brigant.

'We knew Mr. Brigant as well as he would allow anyone to know him,' said Mrs. Atwell, answering for her husband. 'For you see, Mr. Brigant was my brother-in-law.'

'Your brother-in-law?' said Hadley, quite shocked.

'Yes. Niall Brigant was married to my sister, Jane. He loved her terribly and when she died in childbed, he shut himself off from everyone.'

'How tragic,' Sookie said as Hadley nodded her head in agreement.

'Indeed. We tried everything we could to comfort him, but it only served to cause him more suffering.'

'How so, ma'am? I cannot believe that your kind presence would have caused him to suffer, 'said Hadley gently.

'Jane was not only my sister, she was my twin.'

'How extraordinary!' exclaimed Sookie.

'Yes, indeed, Miss Stackhouse,' said the reverend. 'Lavinia and Jane were quite identical. Same colouring, the same expression of face, and the same laugh. Quite extraordinary, indeed.'

'I was also with child at the time of my sister's death. I believe I reminded my brother-in-law too much of his loss. Not wanting to upset him further, I kept my distance,' Mrs. Atwell stated. 'Over time, the neighbourhood no longer concerned themselves with his condition and he became somewhat of a recluse and developed a reputation as an eccentric.'

'Yes. I had heard that,' Hadley said. 'Indeed, Remy only vaguely recalled him from a visit as a boy. He was quite surprised to have figured in his will.'

'I am not at all surprised, Mrs. Savoy. My brother-in-law had his odd ways, but he was of a kind heart and excellent mind. No doubt there was something about Mr. Savoy as a boy that impressed him those many years ago. Mayhap he saw in Mr. Savoy the son he'd lost. Besides, one could not expect to leave such an estate such as Hardgrove Chase to his cats!' said Mrs. Atwell with a sad smile.

'That would have been eccentricity indeed,' said her husband, attempting to lift the mood. He turned to Sookie. 'I am glad to see that Mrs. Savoy has family to support her. It is a trial to be ill at any one time, but so much easier to bear when one is surrounded by loved ones.'

Sookie threw her cousin a glance. 'Indeed, Reverend Atwell, how true. Of course, it is pleasant also to know that one has the support of one's neighbours and friends during one's black days. I am certain that you and Mrs. Atwell must be pillars of strength for those in the community who are less fortunate. I harbour the greatest respect for those who aid their fellow man no matter what circumstances may prevail.'

The reverend's feelings were mixed. He was not certain how to take Miss Stackhouse's statement, whether she had just gently rebuked him for not earlier demonstrating his concern for Mrs. Savoy or paid him a compliment for carrying out his duties in a conscientious manner. Mrs. Atwell who was not of as agile a mind as her husband, nodded graciously to Sookie.

'Thank you, my dear. It is not always easy to carry the burden, of course, especially when one gets to our advanced age. But Reverend Atwell and I do try to discharge our duties with a cheerful countenance.'

'Indeed,' said Sookie, smiling at the reverend's frowning expression.

Hastily, Hadley offered the biscuit tray to the reverend and his wife. 'Pray do take another biscuit, Reverend. Or perhaps you would care for another cup of tea?'

Mrs. Atwell had taken another biscuit and smiled sweetly at Sookie and Hadley. Although Sookie was still upset by the reverend and his wife's clear neglect of Hadley during her illness, Sookie felt herself softening toward the older woman. She sensed a deep sadness which lay below the surface of Mrs. Atwell's cheerful countenance and thought of her own beloved grandmother and the grief she carried with her daily after the loss of her husband and two children.

Hadley offered the biscuit tray to the reverend and motioned to the tea, but he refused both. He leaned forward, his expression earnest. 'Mrs. Savoy, once again Mrs. Atwell and I wish to express our deep regret for not calling on you sooner, but I wish to assure you that you may call upon me for whatever needs you may have. I shall hold myself available at all times.'

'Actually there is a service that you might do my cousin better than any other, Reverend,' said Sookie. She smiled at the sudden wary look in the reverend's eyes. 'I was quite shocked to discover when I arrived that my cousin and her son had been deserted by her household staff. There was fear of the pox, I understand, but surely that is now long since passed.'

'The good doctor informed most of us that the fear of the pox was a mistaken assumption, yes. But you must not blame the servants overmuch for their desertion, Miss Stackhouse. The pox swept through this area only a few years ago and there are still vivid and painful memories of loved ones lost,' said the reverend gently.

'I quite sympathise,' said Sookie, nodding. 'But apparently not all took the good doctor at his word. Reverend, it would be so helpful if _you _could reassure the neighbourhood that Hardgrove Chase is not contaminated, so to speak, and that Mrs. Savoy will be happy to receive applications from those seeking a post in the house.'

The reverend's frown lightened. 'I understand, Miss Stackhouse. It is a good thought. I know of several who now regret leaving Hardgrove Chase's employment. Yes, yes, I will glad to be of service in this matter.' After a moment the reverend pulled out his watch fob and checked the time. 'Mrs. Savoy, Mrs. Atwell and I must be going.' He rose and his wife rose with him. Hadley leaned lightly on Sookie's arm for support, exchanged pleasantries with her departing guests as they walked to the door.

When the Atwells had stepped up into their gig and started away and Jenkins closed the door, Hadley looked at Sookie with a pained expression.

'My dear cousin, did you have to prick the poor man so?'

'Come, Hadley! He well deserved it. Where was he a few weeks ago when you were confined to bed, I should like to know? He admitted that the doctor reported there was no pox. If his conscience bothers him now, so much the better,' said Sookie.

'You have such a combative spirit, cousin!'

'Well, I must have inherited it from Gran. She never suffered fools lightly, and that man, Hadley, is a fool for neglecting you in your hour of need. A man of God indeed!' Sookie said, incensed.

'I do so envy your gumption, Sookie. I think I should have weathered this so much better if I was more like you,' said Hadley with a laugh.

'But then we should not get along half so well. Jason says when he becomes quite frustrated with me that I am nothing less than a possum,' said Sookie on a laugh.

'What in the world is a possum?' asked Hadley. She saw that Sookie was going to tell her and held up her hand. 'No do not tell me. It must be a horrid beast. Shame on Jason for teasing you so. I think you the finest creature alive to care for Hunter and me.'

'I heartily second that sentiment, Hadley,' said Eric walking into the hall, newly returned from his ride. 'Our dear Susannah is a diamond of the first water.' Sookie could not help but notice the glow of health and vigour that surrounded the marquess. His skin shone golden from the sun and his hair was attractively mussed from his activity.

'Oh, Eric, do not tease her,' rebuked Hadley smiling.

Eric just grinned at Hadley. Little did Hadley realise that the marquess was far from teasing Miss Stackhouse. He trained his eyes on Sookie and noted the pretty blush creeping along her cheeks. He thought he'd managed to work Sookie out of his system this morning, but seeing her again only reminded him just how much he actually desired her. She wore a morning dress of yellow muslin with a high ruffled neck that complimented her creamy skin. And her long hair was parted down the center and pulled back into two intersecting plaits wrapped into a loose bun, allowing the rest of her hair to cascade down her back in heavy waves. In a word, Susannah Stackhouse was perfection. Utter perfection.

_I want her,_ he thought. _I want her, so she shall be mine. _Eric began to grin to himself, but his internal voice rose. _But why do you want her? And for what purpose? She is a maid, an innocent. Susannah Stackhouse is not one of your fast and loose ladies of the ton. She will not allow herself to be seduced than discarded like some opera singer. Are you proposing marriage to the chit? You can't seriously be proposing marriage! Good God, man, are you? _Eric shook his, slightly nauseated from the turn his thoughts have taken.

'I see from your attire that you are just come back from your jaunt about the countryside?' Hadley asked, pulling Eric out of his disturbing thoughts.

'Indeed, my dear,' he said, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from Sookie. 'Though I did happen upon your guests as I cantered up the drive.'

'Yes, the Reverend Atwell and his lovely wife, Mrs. Lavinia Atwell. I was just admonishing Sookie for being so hard on the good reverend.'

'Indeed, Susannah,' said Eric, raising a brow in question. 'And what exactly did the good reverend do to put you off so?'

'Only neglect Hadley in her darkest hour. As a man of the cloth, is it not his Christian duty to see to my cousin's wellbeing? I only reminded him of said duty and that perhaps he should not be so lax in future.'

'Sookie, you practically accused the man of gross abandonment!' Hadley exclaimed.

'As if I could do less!' Sookie relplied. Hadley turned to the marquess for support.

'I'm afraid Susannah is right, Hadley. Your neighbours have treated you appallingly and cannot be let off so lightly,' said Eric. Then he turned to Sookie and said, 'I commend you, Susannah. As always you never let a little thing like propriety stand in the way of your righteous indignation.'

To Eric's surprise, Sookie laughed softly. 'Coming from you, my lord, I shall take your words as the highest of compliments.'

Supper that evening was a lively affair with Hadley in high spirits after Hunter regaled her with stories of his fishing trip with the groom, Tray Dawson. When supper had finished, Sookie, Hadley and Eric retired to the drawing room for tea.

'Hadley, we really must discuss what you want done with the household staff. Eric has hired an undergardener and a gamesman and I have interviewed three women for the position of housekeeper. I am not certain which would be most suitable. Or would you prefer to invite your former housekeeper, who I gather from Mrs. Jenkins, was from the village?' said Sookie.

'Yes, Hadley, mayhap it would be best to re-engage your former housekeeper,' Eric interjected.

'That woman I shall not have again in my house,' said Hadley with decision. 'She was among the first to leave, spouting wildly of doom for us all, which did nothing to soothe the fears of the others. I was quite disappointed in her too as a housekeeper. She was rather more lax than I would have liked. I was on the point of letting her go when I was taken ill.'

Then I shall not call her back. The other three ladies all appear most qualified. It is simply a matter of which you prefer. Shall I ask each of them in tomorrow afternoon so that you may talk with them? I requested that they all remain at Hardgrove Chase another day for a decision to be made,' asked Sookie.

'Most sensible of you, Susannah,' said Eric smiling, studying her carefully. Since the afternoon, Sookie had sensed a shift in the marquess, though she was at a lost to identify it. He was different with her, more cautious. He looked at her often and with such concentration, as though she were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve. Sookie found his behaviour most peculiar.

'Indeed, Sookie. That was most helpful of you. Of course I shall talk with them,' said Hadley. 'I do so appreciate that you are handling the greater part of this, Sookie. I am so much stronger, but I do not think that my nerves would support such drudgery just yet. I am especially grateful to the doctor for sending Amelia to me. She is a dear and knows just what to do.'

'I am glad to hear it. Since you have been up and about, you have needed your own maid,' said Sookie.

She kept to herself the heartfelt comments of Tara, who had acted as lady's maid to both Sookie and Hadley while at the same time endeavouring to keep an eye on the lively Hunter.

Later that evening, Sookie sat in front of her mirror as Tara brushed her hair. 'I am happy to have another woman in the house, Miss Sookie. Amelia has proven herself quite capable. I was beginning to feel all at sixes and sevens what with Mrs. Savoy's illness and watching the boy,' Tara said.

Sookie had looked at her in the mirror. 'And I am such a trial as well.'

Tara shrugged and gave a small half-smile. 'You are as you have always been, Sook. Though you are thoughtful and do tend to yourself more than some other ladies would. I won't deny that has been of help to me.'

Sookie turned on the bench and caught her friend's hands. 'Tara, you are more appreciated than I can possibly tell you. We have been together since we were children. And in these last months, well, I do not know what I should have done without you. That fix I found myself in with Bill Compton… how you… saved me that night… I don't … I don't know…'

'Hush now, Miss Sookie,' Tara said, her eyes having gone a little misty. She gave a decisive sniff and sat down next to Sookie on the bench and held her hand. 'You don't need to think about that night ever again. Bill Compton is in the past. He's gone and he ain't gonna trouble you know how. Not after what I done to him. So you stop your blubbering, you hear. What would your Gran say if she saw you carrying on like this?'

'Oh Tara, you must know I love you,' Sookie said, hugging Tara tightly. 'You have always been my friend, my companion… my sister.'

'I loves you too, Miss Sookie,' Tara said.

They held on to each for a few moments longer, then Tara stood and took up the brush again, vigourously brushing out Sookie's thick hair.

There were a few moments of companionable silence. Then a thought occurred to Sookie.

'Tara, I know that you have become very attached to Hunter. Would you mind awfully if his lordship were to find a tutor or governess for him?'

The hairbrush paused in its action. 'Why I ain't given it much thought,' said Tara slowly. She brushed a few strokes, turning it over in her mind. 'I am fond of the little critter, I must admit. But my feelings would not be hurt to have him given over to someone else, if that's what you're asking. Master Hunter is a lively one and I am lazier than I used to be. That boy needs someone who is better able to enter into his flights of fancy.'

'_Flights of fancy_,' repeated Sookie. She sighed. 'He manages to escape us at all times, does he not? Willful and clever and adventuresome is our Master Hunter. I think I shall advise his lordship to find a youthful tutor, one who has not quite forgotten what it is like to be a young boy. Perhaps there is one who can channel Hunter's energies into less harrowing occupations. Did I tell you that yesterday he managed to elude me, just for a moment, and I subsequently discovered him dangling from the third-storey window ledge? He wished to see the sparrow's nest, he said. My heart was in my mouth, I assure you, Tara. It took both Jenkins and myself to get him safely back inside.'

Tara laughed with whole-hearted amusement. 'I will warrant that Jenkins's face was a picture.'

'He could not have been more white than I! And then Lord Northman walked into the room. Hunter danced over to him as happy as a jaybird to recount his little adventure. Such a look Lord Northman gave me! After he had sent Hunter off with Jenkins, he very politely informed me that he was astonished that I allowed the boy such latitude. I was never in my life more mortified,' said Sookie.

Tara gave a last swipe to her mistress' gleaming hair. 'I should think you gave his lordship what for.'

'Tara!' Sookie said, turning around in shock at her friend's statement.

'Please, Miss Sookie. I should think _his lordship_ would understand, seeing as how Master Hunter has played off a few of his tricks with him as well.'

'Yes, well, but somehow that is _different_, you know. That incident with the horses was quite unavoidable, whereas _I_ should have kept Hunter somehow chained to my side. I shall never understand a gentleman's logic,' said Sookie with a touch of asperity, rising from the bench and slipping off her robe. She got into bed, yawning widely.

'I doubt the gentlemen have any more claim to logic than women despite their protestations to the contrary. Just think of all the hair-brained schemes Mr. Jason got hisself into before he finally screwed his head on right,' Tara said, smiling fondly at the thought of Jason.

'You miss him, don't you, Tara.'

Tara looked thoughtfully at Sookie before answering, knowing she could trust her friend with her deepest secrets. 'Everyday, miss.'

'Well, I know he misses you, too.'

'Thank you, Miss Sookie. I 'preciate you saying so,' Tara said quietly, walking over to the door adjoining her room with Sookie's and opening it. 'Goodnight, Sook.' Tara walked into the small room and shut the door softly behind her.

'Goodnight Tara.' Sookie reached over to blow out the candle on her bedside table and slid lower beneath the bedclothes. She was asleep almost instantly.

Two weeks passed and normalcy seemed to have returned to Hardgrove Chase. Hadley told Sookie that she and Remy were not too well known to their neighbours since they had taken possession of Hardgrove Chase only ten months previously. She was therefore looking forward to getting better acquainted. Sookie wondered that her cousin did not harbour any ill feeling toward her neighbours for their lack of concern when she was ill, but kindness was an integral part of Hadley's nature. Hadley Savoy rarely said a disparaging word about anyone, and when she did it was always tempered with a possible excuse for that person's behaviour.

The first invitation that those at Hardgrove Chase received was an evening's entertainment at the Stuarts set for Friday week. Mrs. Stuart and her daughters paid a morning call shortly after the Reverend Atwell and his wife, and extended a personal invitation to a dinner dance. Though Hadley said that she did not think that she was yet up to dancing since the least exertion still tired her, she announced quite firmly that Sookie and Eric were to enjoy themselves and not bother about her. She would sit quietly with the matrons and enjoy a comfortable coze while her cousin and brother-in-law took advantage of the dancing.

Sookie also looked forward to the evening. It had been some time since she had whirled about on the dance floor. She knew herself to be a graceful dancer as her grandmother had insisted on a French dancing master. She had never been anxious about her ability as so often was the case even with ladies considered beyond coming out.

Not wishing to stand out too obviously as a colonial, Sookie dressed carefully. She chose a gown with a demi-train that had been sewn for her in New Orleans by a celebrated French seamstress. Though recognisable as a current fashion, the coral gown had a fresh quality that was rare for a made-up pattern. Tucks of gossamer lace from Caudry and satin ribbon from Lucerne adorned the low bosom. The sleeves were capped and the skirt was open in front to reveal a lavishly ornamental blush pink petticoat.

Tara fixed Sookie's hair high on the crown of her head, pulling forward wispy curls to soften her face. Sookie wore an emerald set that had been her mother's. The green stones glowed softly in her dainty ears and in the necklace clasped about her neck, a dazzling emerald and diamond bracelet finished the look. Grabbing her silk shawl and placing a cloak over her shoulders, she took one last glance in the mirror, and with a friendly word to Tara, left the bedroom.

Eric was already downstairs waiting with Hadley. When he saw Sookie gliding down the stairs his breath caught and his heart began to race. _Magnificent_, he thought and not for the first time.

'Why, Sookie, you look wonderful. What an extraordinary gown,' said Hadley admiringly. 'Would you not agree, Eric?'

'Indeed. Susannah, you look most lovely this evening,' said Eric with feeling.

'Thank you, Eric, Hadley,' said Sookie, feeling her heart beat faster when she looked at the marquess. She thought that she had seldom seen a more handsome man. The marquess' hair was brushed into a fashionably disheveled look, which emphasized the planes of his lean face. His moderately high shirt points were starched to perfection, his stark white cravat was intricately tied and secured with a diamond stickpin that flashed under the light whenever he turned. His superb shoulders were set off by the close cut of his superfine black evening coat. Beneath a dark grey satin waistcoat, he wore a ruffled shirt and fobs hung from black ribands at his trim waist. His black breeches outlined muscular thighs and calves. In short, Lord Eric Northman, was a splendid specimen of masculitinity in evening gear. Sookie was irritated that she felt so drawn to his beauty.

Turning to Hadley she said, 'Cousin, you look beautiful this evening. Lavender suits you. I must be sure to praise Amelia for her choice.'

After the pleasantries, Eric handed the ladies into the carriage. Eric felt a jolt of electricity race up his arm upon touching Sookie's fingers. She stared at him with a startled expression. _Had she felt it too_, he wondered. He watched as she quickly stepped into the carriage and settled herself beside Hadley. Eric followed and sat opposite.

After a few pained moments, Sookie inquired of Hadley what she knew of the Stuarts.

'It is generally known that Mr. Stuart is a sporting gentleman. As for Mrs. Stuart and the daughters, you may judge for yourself from their visit. They are a healthy lot and genteel to boot,' said Hadley. 'Perhaps, Eric, you will find a suitable bride amongst them, eh, Sookie,' Hadley teased, laughing heartily.

'Indeed, Hadley,' Sookie said somewhat uncomfortably. 'Though his lordship does not strike me as a gentleman eager to join the marriage mart.'

Before Eric could answer, the carriage had rolled to a stop in front of the Stuarts' home which stood on a small wooded hill above the village. Hounslow Stuart was a congenial gentleman who welcomed all to his hall with expansive goodwill. He was generous to a fault and handled his family with unusual latitude. His overwhelming interest was breeding the best hunting hounds and his reputation exceeded the limits of the district for several surrounding counties.

Mr. Stuart was a hardy gentleman who believed strongly in the positive effects of good bloodlines and had chosen his wife accordingly. Mrs. Stuart was a good-natured, well-built woman who had admirably proven her husband's theory. She had not been sick more than a handful of days in her life and she was capable of putting long hours into her responsibilities. As a consequence, Mr. Stuart was a contented man. Henly Hall's reputation as an oasis of comfort and ease reflected well on him and if he regretted at all Mrs. Stuart's tendency to produce daughters he was never heard to voice it.

However, Mrs. Stuart knew herself to have failed her husband in this one area. Though she loved all three of her daughters with the same generous spirit as did her worthy spouse, she sighed from time to time with regret that there would be not be a Stuart to carry on her husband's torch. But she was nothing if not a practical woman. Mr. Stuart's pronouncements and good fortune at breeding much sought-after hounds had not been lost on Mrs. Stuart. When she thought about it, she concluded that her daughters came from some of the best blood around and she made up her mind that every one of the Stuart girls was worthy of a gentleman from a good family and background. Her ambition became to settle her three daughters in just such a happy situation as she had found with her husband so that she could look forward to the advent of healthy, strong grandchildren.

Accordingly, Mrs. Stuart's greeting to the ladies was cordial but her greeting to Lord Northman was a bit more effusive. The Marquess of Huntley was handsome, eminently eligible, richer than Croesus, and from all accounts well-heeled. Whomever he bestowed his name on would have entrée into the highest society, Mrs. Stuart was certain of that.

'My lord, how good of you to grace our small gathering. I told Mr. Stuart but this morning how your attendance would be the capstone of what looks to be a fine evening. Pray do come with me. I should like to introduce you to my husband and daughters,' she said.

With her hand firmly attached to Lord Northman's sleeve, Mrs. Stuart spared a glance for Hadley and Sookie. 'Mrs. Savoy, I am certain that you know quite a number of people. Mrs. Atwell, for instance, was just telling me of the most pleasant visit that she had with you last week. Here she comes now. I am happy to see you again, Miss Stackhouse. I have always had an interest in the colonies. Perhaps we shall speak more later. This way, my lord.'

Eric had been startled by the lady's degree of friendliness, but his expression smoothed to its usual urbanity as he accepted what was obviously his due as the highest socially ranking personage. 'Certainly, Mrs. Stuart. I will be glad to make the acquaintance of my sister-in-law's distinguished neighbour,' he said affably. He allowed himself to be whisked across the ballroom.

Hadley and Sookie glanced at one another, matching mirth in their eyes. 'I do not think Eric quite appreciates the impact that he will have tonight,' said Hadley.

Sookie scanned the ballroom quickly. 'No, indeed. There must be at least half a dozen more ladies in attendance than gentleman. And unless I miss my guess, all have already spied the elegant stranger in their midst. Eric will be very busy all evening making the rounds,' she said, laughing, and thinking it a grand joke on him.

Mrs. Atwell came up to them and spoke gently on general topics. She took upon herself the duty of making the Hardgrove Chase ladies known to several personages. Hadley was soon ensconced with the matrons, who welcomed her to their midst not only for her own sake but also out of curiosity about her guests.

Despite, her colonial origins, Sookie was proclaimed to be a great beauty with an eye for fashion. Her gown was well received as were her manners. Sookie proved to be very popular with the gentleman in attendance and was gratified to be asked almost at once onto the dance floor.

The marquess' bearing and smart evening dress was of an elegance seldom seen in the provincial neighbourhood and the ladies in the ballroom were acutely aware of his presence. He was swiftly judged to be the most attractive gentleman in the room and not only from the standpoint of his refined dress. His very manner, at once arrogant and easy, proclaimed him a London smart. As for the gentleman, who were the sort to be found at any country gathering talking of horses and hounds, they were not so quickly accepting of his lordship. Those attributes that most appealed to the ladies put the gentleman off until it was discovered that the marquess was an enthusiastic hunter and spoke as knowledgably of hounds and jumpers as the next man. Then the marquess' dandyism was forgiven him and the cut of his coat and the intricacy of his neckcloth ceased to be the objects of scorn amongst the elder horsy gentleman.

The younger set, especially the aspiring dandies, from the first moment of laying eyes on the marquess, recognised him as a blade of the first water. His dress, his mode of speaking and carriage were all avidly devoured by the younger gentleman. One voiced the consensus of them all when he vowed that beginning on the morrow he meant to acquire those attributes that lent the London gentleman such distinction.

'Yes, but does he drive to an inch?' asked one gentleman who was of a more questioning mind than his fellows.

'Of course he must. All the London beaux do,' stated a childhood friend impatiently. 'It is a requirement, don't you know.' His companions nodded sagely. Still the young gentleman looked dubious. But since this thin young man had little actual interest in sporting events and preferred to spend much of his time with his nose buried in the latest papers on agriculture, his opinion did not weigh overmuch with the others, who could be said to be sporting-mad.

The Marquess of Huntley was not unaware of the interest he generated and it amused him. He was used to the highest degree of regard, of course, but he was treated with almost a hint of reverence by some of the individuals that he came into contact with that evening. With good-humoured contempt he dismissed them variously as toadeaters and social climbers. It did not occur to him that he would have felt astonished if he had not garnered such attention in a small district. It was merely his due.

Sookie had met many of the young ladies by that time. More often than not they were more interested in her acquaintance with Lord Northman than they were in her. She could not help laughing to herself at the transparency of their questions and the direction of their conversations. She had difficulty in remembering their names since they all seemed alike in their interests.

One young lady, however, stood out from the rest. Miss Clara Elizabeth Price was a brunette of astonishing beauty. Her eyes were violet, her mouth a perfect pink rosebud, her figure slender and elegant. She approached with what Sookie was startled to realise was the wariness of a feline checking out a potential rival.

Miss Price introduced herself to Sookie with an assurance born of her exalted position as the reigning neighbourhood beauty. 'I am Clara Elizabeth Price. I understand that you are Mrs. Savoy's cousin from America,' she said. Her tone conveyed the impression that she held America to be a place of barbaric peoples and customs. She swept Sookie with a sharp glance, appraising the colonial's becoming hairstyle and well-made, fashionable gown.

Sookie smiled. 'Yes, I am Susannah Stackhouse. And I rather enjoy being an American.'

There was a momentarily startled look in Miss Price's eyes that gave way to a sharper examination of Sookie's face. 'Quite Miss Stackhouse. I so apologise if I sounded condescending, but it has not been long since the states belonged to England, has it? One learns a certain attitude, of course.'

'I am certain one does,' said Sookie with a hint of amusement. 'Though I feel it is my duty to inform you, Miss Price, that my part of America has never belonged to England.' She could see that she had irritated Miss Price, and smiled with all the friendliness at her command. 'I believe, Miss Price, you and I need not spar further. We have already taken one another's measure, do you not agree?'

'Indeed, Miss Stackhouse. And as such is the case, let us be completely frank with one another,' said Miss Price. Her beautiful eyes were chilly. 'You are in a unique position as Mrs. Savoy's cousin and guest. I think you know to what I refer.'

'I believe I do. You are not the first lady this evening to inquire into The Marquess of Huntley's background and eligibility, Miss Price,' said Sookie dryly.

'Yes, but _I _am the only one of consequence,' replied Miss Price, smiling slightly. Her face was as pleasant to look at as a new-blown rose, until one chanced to register the hard expression in her eyes. 'I already know Lord Northman is a bachelor, and a wealthy one. I do wonder, however, about the extent of your relationship with his lordship.'

'I beg your pardon?' said Sookie, stupefied.

'I don't think that your wits have gone begging of a sudden, Miss Stackhouse! I wish to know if you fancy yourself a marchioness as do these others,' said Miss Price impatiently, with a dismissing gesture of her fan at the crowded ballroom. 'You are pretty, I suppose. And by the cut of your gown and quality of your jewels, one would venture to say, not penniless. But you are a colonial nobody. Who are your parents? What are your connections, other than Mrs. Savoy? The Marquess of Huntley would never lower himself to associate with your kind.'

Sookie felt the edges of her temper curl. 'My dear Miss Price, I shall not confide in you one particle of my thoughts or relationship to the marquess. What I think of your impertinence can well be imagined, however.'

Miss Price smiled almost pityingly at her. 'I understand you, of course. And do understand me. I shall ride roughshod over anyone who impedes me. From that standpoint alone you would do well to put a wide berth between yourself and the Marquess of Huntley. He belongs to me!' She inclined her head in a nod and took her leave of Sookie with all appearance of friendliness.

'What an unwholesome, arrogant little baggage,' said Sookie indignantly.

'Who is it that you are castigating to heartily, Susannah?' asked an amused voice.

Sookie turned to find the marquess standing beside her. 'Oh, it is you, my lord.'

'Pray, must you sound so disappointed, Susannah? I must tell you that in the last hour I have gotten quite used to expressions of gratification at my mere existence,' said Eric with a grin.

'How positively diverting for you, my lord' said Sookie with a touch of asperity.

Lord Northman was startled. He raised a well-marked brow. 'Who could it have been that has so set up your back? Was it that fop of a sawbones or perhaps that impertinent young pup, Blackburn? I knew I should have stepped in when I saw him groping your waist during the country dance,' Eric growled.

Sookie looked at the marquess with barely suppressed amusement. If she did not know any better, she would say that the marquess was jealous. Enjoying the attention he paid her and wanting to tease him more Sookie sighed before answering.

'Blackburn? Do not be foolish, Eric. Mr. Geoffrey Blackburn is a gentleman and very handsome. No, I rather enjoyed his attentions.'

'Indeed,' said Eric through gritted teeth. 'Then who, Susannah? Surely not the exquisite creature who just left your side.' Eric noted the way Sookie stiffened at the way he had described Miss Price. He smiled to himself. _Could Sookie be jealous of Miss Price? Interesting…_'She is the only young lady who has not managed to present herself to me.'

Sookie looked at Eric scathingly. 'Yes, Miss Price. She informed me of her ambition to become a marchioness,' said Sookie.

Eric threw back his head and laughed. Sookie looked up at him and giggled demurely behind her fan. Unbeknownst to the pair, their lively banter had not gone unobserved by the general party, including Miss Price, who sat beside Hadley, shooting daggers at Sookie.

'Thank you, Susannah. You have put it quite neatly in perspective for me. I am a _cause célèbre _not for my wit or charm, but for my person and title. I do not think that thought had crossed only Miss Price's mind. I am familiar with the chase and ever since I have set foot in this ballroom I have felt most uncomfortably like the fox.'

'How silly of you, my lord. As though a knowledgeable, wily gentleman such as yourself could ever be so easily trapped. No, I believe that it will take much more than a few hungry houndish gazes,' said Sookie. 'I think that a long run is what will be required to snare such a prize as yourself and there are probably a few ladies here this evening who would be most willing to donate their efforts to the cause.'

'And are you amongst the list of probable ladies, Susannah? Will you lead me a merry chase?' Eric whispered, leaning in close to Sookie's ear.

Sookie shivered despite herself, but refused to be drawn by his pretty words. She turned to him with a look of incredulity and let out an inelegant snort.

Eric pulled back and gave Sookie a wounded smile. 'I can see that I shall receive no pity from your hands, my cruel Susannah. But perhaps you will indulge me in a turn about the floor? The Stuart's three marriageable daughters are bearing down on us, you see,' said Eric. He swept Sookie onto the floor without waiting for her consent.

'That was quite cowardly of you, my lord,' said Sookie with mock disapproval.

'Ah, yes, but very expedient of the fox,' said Eric with a disarming grin. Sookie was laughing as the movement of the cotillion separated them. When they came together again, he said, 'It occurs to me to wonder why Miss Price would confide in you, Susannah.'

'Perhaps I struck her as a particularly sympathetic confidante,' said Sookie with a flippant air.

Eric looked down at her with a speculative gleam in his blue eyes. 'I do not think that is at all probable. More likely the chit was testing her powers to intimidate. Were you intimidated, Susannah?'

'Not in the least, Eric,' said Sookie promptly, and then regretted her hastiness when she saw the look of satisfaction in his eyes. She did not have long to wait before he struck.

'Then Miss Price was satisfied that you are a rival for my affections,' said Eric calmly.

The dance parted them again before Sookie could react to his outrageous statement. When he took her hand once more, Sookie hissed, 'You are the most horridly arrogant man! Let me take leave to tell you, sir, that I would not lower myself to – to _compete_ for a gentleman. Especially one so – so…'

'Arrogant, conceited, full of myself?' suggested Eric helpfully.

Sookie sent him a daggered look. 'Yes, yes and yes!' she snapped, and she made up her mind that for the remainder of the dance she would refuse to speak another word to him no matter how provoking he managed to be.

She swiftly discovered that Lord Northman could be very provoking. She could do nothing to stop his outrageous whispers. Nor could she show her displeasure, since there were several people who were taking note of Eric's attention toward her. She could only pin a smile to her face and appear to be enjoying herself. For the most part she kept her gaze lowered whenever the dance brought her together with the marquess, but occasionally her lashes flew upward to reveal the flash of impotent fury in her blue-black eyes.

Sookie was never more glad for a set to end. She returned to her seat with almost unseemly haste and she was not best pleased to find that Eric had followed her. 'Oh, do go away,' she begged. She was unaware that one or two of the matrons nearby had heard her and that their faces expressed startled incredulity.

The marquess was aware of the ladies' riveted attention, however. As it was not his intent that he and Sookie become the subject of speculative gossip, he smoothed over the moment as best he could. 'Certainly I shall. Thank you for informing me of Hadley's request. I shall attend to it immediately,' he said, and bowed. He smiled at Sookie's look of bewilderment and walked away.

Sookie feeling irritated and confused by Eric's actions decided to take a stroll about the terrace, hoping that the pleasant night air would soothe her. Making sure to attract little attention to herself, Sookie grabbed her handpainted silk shawl, wrapping it about her shoulders as stepped out onto the terrace overlooking the rose garden. She was relieved to find that she was alone and walked over to the railing to peer out at gardens below. Torches were lit throughout the grounds and lovely paper lanterns were strung along the stair railings. Sookie sighed deeply and looked up at the stars, allowing herself to relax fully for the first time that evening. The tension slowly ebbed away from her body as she began to sing softly to herself.

_Rest you then, rest, sad eyes, melt not in weeping  
>While she lies sleeping<br>Softly, softly, now softly  
>Softly lies sleeping<em>

'You really do have the voice of an angel, Susannah.'

Not bothering to turn, Sookie answered in a defeated voice, 'Must you always do everything in your power to vex me?'

'I had not realised that my presence was such a bother to you,' Eric said amused.

'Oh, leave off, Eric,' said Sookie in an annoyed tone. 'You have been toying with me all evening,' said Sookie, glaring up at him.

'While I admit that you amuse me, dearest Susannah, I would not toy with you. I assure you, madam, this is no game.' The seriousness in his tone was not lost on Sookie and she studied him carefully in the moonlight. Eric's eyes bore into hers with an intensity she had not seen from him before. They were bluer than normal, darker. He stepped closer to her and she could feel the heat radiating from his tensely coiled body.

'Eric, what is this?' she asked quietly her voice momentarily shaky. 'If it is not a game, then what mean you by your actions?' asked Sookie in earnest.

She held her breath in anticipation of his answer. She could not, would not, allow herself to believe that Eric's actions were for anything other than amusement.

'Susannah,' Eric said taking Sookie's chin in his hand and gently lifting her face. '_Sookie_,' he whispered before claiming her lips with his own. His kiss was possessive, demanding. He could feel his need for her rise, a need he had reigned in for several weeks. He felt her initial resistance, but after a few moments her body softened against his and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He angled her face to deepen the kiss and Sookie moaned her pleasure. Eric coaxed her mouth open with his seeking tongue and when her tongue sought his own, Eric almost roared in triumph.

_My God, what she does to me! I have never felt this alive! I must have her_, Eric thought as he crushed her further into him.

Sookie felt as though she were flying. Never in her life had she ever been kissed in this manner. She had kissed Bill, of course, but never with such feeling. Their kisses had always been somewhat cold and perfunctory. With Eric, her body zinged with an unknown sensation. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer. Sounds she'd never heard before escaped her lips. Sookie wanted nothing more than to give herself fully to this passion, but a small part of her still resisted. _Were his intentions honourable? _

'Eric, my lord, stop, please,' she gasped, using the last of her strength to pull away from him. 'Why are you doing this?' she half cried, half sobbed. 'Why do you torment me so!'

Eric held her face in his hands. 'Dearest Sookie, you say I torment you, but it is_ you_ who torment me,' declared Eric passionately, before once again claiming her sweet, soft lips in a possessive kiss. She moaned into his mouth as the last of her resolve abandoned her and Eric gripped her tighter.

After a few moments, he broke their kiss and held her gaze. '_I burn for you, my love_! Say you will marry me, my beautiful Sookie,' said Eric against her ear.

Sookie looked up, startled by his declaration. _Had he just proposed marriage?_ _This must be a dream. Does he love me? Do I love him? _Sookie asked herself. C_ertainly he engenders strong emotions in me, but love?_ She looked up at his smiling, handsome face. He was bathed in moonlight and he was beautiful.

_Yes_, she thought, _yes, I do love him. I have tried to convince myself otherwise, to fight this feeling building inside of me, but I cannot deny my heart. I love him!_

'You wish to marry me,' she said, smiling shyly, her voice hopeful for the first time since her disastrous affair with Bill ended.

'Yes, my darling. I want nothing more than to make you my wife.' Eric admitted. 'Despite my better judgment, nay, despite _all _reason, I find that I am drawn to you. I have battled with myself these past weeks and failed. Sookie, you _cannot_ know how much I ardently admire and love you,' he proclaimed.

Sookie felt the fog lift from her addled brain and pulled away from him. _Wait? What…what did he just say? He battled with himself? He loves me against his will? _

She stepped away from Eric, her breathing laboured as fury returned to her eyes. 'You love me _despite your better judgment_? Despite _all _reason?' she asked.

'Yes,' said Eric confused by Sookie's sudden change. 'Sookie, why do you move from me? How have I upset you, my love? Did you not hear me? I love you.'

'You love me despite yourself,' Sookie said, her voice rising as a different passion began to overtake her. _'You love me despite yourself! _You have just admitted to me that you do not wish to love me; that given a choice, you would choose _not_ to love me!'

Until that moment, Eric had been confused by Sookie's sudden ire. He had just confessed his feelings for her. A man of his distinction and exalted position does not give in to love easily. Surely she would realise that he could not be entirely easy with this new development. He had a responsibility to his name and title. The Marquess of Huntley was expected to marry a woman of consequence, from a noble family of good name and fortune, _not _a willful, opinionated, head-strong colonial nobody. Admitting his love for Sookie was not a decision Eric had taken lightly. But after he'd observed her tonight, saw her light and her shining beauty radiate out, he could no longer deny his feelings. He had watched helplessly as she danced with other men and laughed at their insipid jokes. Eric knew they admired and desired her and his blood boiled with the knowledge.

Eric did not want other men to pay her attention. He did not want her to smile her sweet smile at anyone other than himself. She was _his _and he would do all in his power to claim her and damn the consequences! His title and position would protect her, he knew, and in time society would accept her as his chosen marchioness.

Eric thought that once he had disclosed his feelings, Sookie would be flattered and elated. Who _would not be_, he thought, _I am the Marquess of Huntley, after all. _But looking at her now, seeing the high colour in her cheeks and the way her hands were agitatedly clenching and unclenching, Eric could tell that she was far from pleased.

_How can she not be pleased? _Eric thought._ Is she not aware of the great honour I am bestowing upon her? _Eric felt his own temper rise.

'Aye, madam!' he exclaimed. 'Do you think I enjoy these feelings you have evoked in me? Never before have I allowed myself to feel for a woman what I feel for you. I am Eric Alexander Northman, Eighth Marquess of Huntley. My title holds great responsibility. You must realise that by choosing you, a colonial with unknown connections and a fortune built on trade, I have left myself open to censure.'

'Well, I do apologise, my lord, for the _inferiority _of my person and connections. They are, no doubt, a great burden to you,' said Sookie venomously. 'Please, my lord, let me take leave to assure you that I have never courted your attention or love. I have neither want nor need of either!' said Sookie, walking briskly back toward the ballroom.

'Ugggh!' Eric said, running his hands roughly through his hair, as he followed Sookie. 'You are the most willful, stubborn and ungrateful–'

'Ungrateful!' Sookie shrieked as she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. '_I_ am ungrateful?' she asked through clenched teeth.

'Yes! Do you not understand, madam, the great honour I bestow upon you by asking you to be my wife?'

'You mean your condescension,' Sookie spat.

Eric shot Sookie a frustrated look. This is not how he had imagined his declaration would be recieved. But she must be made to understand that this choice has not been easy. 'Susannah, _Sookie_, please be reasonable,' Eric pleaded, reaching out to touch her arm.

Sookie pulled back and stepped away from him. 'No, my lord, your _reason _may have abandoned you, but I am in full possession of mine,' Sookie said coldly. She forced steel into her voice though her heart was breaking. 'I am sorry, my lord, but I must decline your _generous_ offer of marriage.'

'Sookie–'

'Enough, my lord,' Sookie interrupted, raising her hand. 'You have insulted me and mine enough for one evening,' Sookie said, her accent thickening. 'We have been absent from the party far longer than what is deemed proper. I would not wish to court unwanted gossip.' With one last scathing look at Eric, Sookie turned around and returned to the ballroom.

She walked back to her chair with a heavy heart and sat down. She would not cry. Not here, not in front of all these people. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had so utterly destroyed her.

_Damn him, _she seethed. _Who the hell does he think he is? Great honour, indeed!_

She watched as a few minutes later, the marquess walked through the terrace doors. He searched the ballroom for her and with a determined step began to walk towards her.

Much to her relief (and disappointment), Mr. John Turpin, the village doctor, claimed her hand for a dance, before Eric could reach her. A look of utter rage descended upon Eric's face and she watched as he continued his determined steps only to be cornered by the Stuart girls.

Across the ballroom, Miss Price watched in fury as the marquess' eyes followed Miss Stackhouse on to the dance floor. _He should be looking at me like that, _thought Miss Price. She vowed then and there that she would ruin the colonial upstart. Miss Price smiled prettily to herself as she cultivated a plan.

Hadley, too, had noticed the way Eric's eyes fell upon Sookie with such undisguised passion. _Could it be? _Hadley wondered. _Could Eric hold a tender for Sookie?_ Hadley smiled at the thought, hoping above all else that her beloved cousin and dear brother-in-law should find happiness in each other.

Sookie looked uneasily over her shoulder. She keenly felt Eric's heated gaze upon her back as she went through the steps of the "La Boulangere". Lifting her bu her waist, Mr. Turpin turned her deftly and suddenly Sookie's eyes connected with those of the marquess. His eyes were dark, filled with an unspoken emotion, though Sookie knew that it was something akin to jealous rage. Even in his dark passion, she could not deny his beauty.

_Why does he have to be so bloody handsome? _she fumed. _Why must my heart ache so at the sight of him? Oh you traitorous creature! How I wish I could cut you out! _

Sookie had no idea how much longer she could hold up under the marquess' intense scrutiny. She watched as Hadley approached Eric and captured his attention, forcing him to tear his gaze from her and she sighed with relief. The dance finished shortly thereafter and the good doctor escorted Sookie back to her seat where once again she found herself becoming lost in her thoughts. One of the matrons, noticing the marquess' marked attention of Miss Stackhouse, leaned over in her chair and whispered to Sookie, 'My dear Miss Stackhouse, his lordship is such a handsome gentleman, do you not agree? My heart palpitates in quite an unseemly manner whenever his glance chances my way,' she said.

Sookie was startled. She knew the lady, but it took her several seconds to place her as one of those who had called at Hardgrove Chase over the past two weeks. She had been amused at the time by the lady's frosty eyes and measuring questions and she had dealt with the starchy dame in her most gracious manner. Mrs. Thatcher had unbent enough to give her a sharp nod of approval as she was taking leave of her and Hadley, and had promised them invitations to a small rout she was planning for later in the season.

Sookie had stared at Mrs. Thatcher for such a long moment that the lady began to wonder if Miss Stackhouse had gone into some sort of trance. Sookie collected herself and smiled. 'Oh, you mean the Marquess of Huntley. Yes, I suppose that he is,' Sookie said, looking over at Eric uncertainly. 'Pray excuse me, ma'am. I should like a lemonade, I think.' She rose and made her way sedately to the refreshment table.

Mrs. Thatcher turned to her companion to exchange an expressive glance. 'These colonials, I say, Maggie. I had always heard that they were an odd lot. Now I understand what was meant. To think that the young woman did not realise I was speaking of the marquess! As though any other gentleman here could hold a candle to him!'

The ladies shook their heads in pity of Miss Stackhouse. Surely, it is not her fault that an unfortunate accident of birth had led to for her lack of understanding and appreciation of the marquess' manly qualities, bearing and great personage.

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><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	9. Damned

**A/N:So, I suffered from a bit of writer's block these past two weeks, but my lovely GBF helped me sort it. He has also very kindly offered to 'beta' my stories. **

**Thank you so much to the lovely readers who offered to be my betas. It was terribly kind of you and I really appreciate the offers!**

**I think, however, that this arrangement with the GBF will work out as he is extremely critical and can tell me to my face that he hates it, which I have now come to realize is an effective cure to my writer's block!**

**Another great cure for my writer's block it seems, is seeing ASkars' butt - ALOT - on TB. Wowee! How hot have the last two episodes been! Seriously, lots of naked Eric, lots of animal fur and lots of him and Sookie writhing around on said animal fur (though I could have done with fewer tit shots of APaq)! **

**Anyway, thank you to everyone who is following, reading and reviewing my story! You guys are amazing and the feedback brings me such joy. I hope this next chapter doesn't disappoint. It was a bit difficult for me to figure out where next to take them, so I kind of had to do a bit of a filler chapter first before can introduce the next plot strand. But I must say that even though this chapter is a bit of a filler, lots of stuff still happens and it's pretty heavy.**

**So, I hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think! R&R!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 9: Damned<br>**_

Nearly two months had passed since the dance at Henley Hall and Sookie and the marquess were still no closer to reconciliation. They acknowledged one another's presence and were painfully polite, but gone was the banter and easy smiles.

Eric had tried on several occasions to force a confrontation between him and Sookie, but she managed to evade him at every turn. She was either busy with staff interviews, sitting with Hadley or caring for Hunter. For Eric, the situation was beyond intolerable. He was not used to being denied, certainly never for anything he so badly wanted. And Eric could not deny that he wanted Sookie above all things. He simply did not understand why Sookie was being unreasonable. In his eyes, he had made her an offer most women of his acquaintance would kill to receive. But as he was quickly coming to realise, Susannah Stackhouse was not most women.

Susannah Stackhouse was a stubborn woman. The marquess had wounded her deeply, and in the days following the dance, Sookie swore to herself that she would never soften toward Eric Northman ever again.

Only Tara knew how severely her mistress suffered. She was the one to comfort Sookie when she arrived back from the dance in clear distress. She held her mistress' head in her lap as Sookie cried. Until recently, Tara could hear her mistress sobbing uncontrollably in the night and marked her red and swollen eyes. She noted her loss of weight and a general dulling in her appearance. Tara felt for her mistress keenly, but knew not how ton help her. Though Sookie had sought comfort in her friend, she refused to tell Tara what had occurred to upset her so. Tara could only sit back and observe as Sookie became more and more withdrawn. She was tempted to write to her mistress' brother, Jason, but knew that Sookie would never forgive her presumption. And Tara knew her mistress well enough to know that when she was ready she would confide in her. And that, Tara swore, is when she would act.

Sookie tried with all her will to forget about the marquess' declaration, chiding herself mercilessly for falling once again for a wholly inappropriate suitor. She saw the looks Eric gave her, read the silent pleading in his eyes, but forced herself to ignore them. How could she consent to be with a man who did not truly wish to be with her? Who loved her against his will? A man who had further admitted that he thought her inferior and unfit to be his bride? To forgive him would be a betrayal of herself and all she stood for. She would rather live a life of loneliness and misery, than be married to a man who did not respect or accept her, no matter how prettily he professed to love her. And though her head knew this to be true, her heart was another matter.

As Sookie sat under the arbor in the White Garden, she shuddered in horror as she thought back to her last encounter with the marquess.

Sookie and Tara had just returned from her excursion with John Turpin, the village doctor. He had asked her very sweetly if she would agree to go on a drive with him and to perhaps visit with a few of his patients. She had thought nothing of accepting his offer. Sookie found the doctor to be good company and was desperate for any diversion from her current situation with the marquess. Indeed, Tara wholeheartedly endorsed the engagement. Sookie knew that Tara suffered with her and wished to assuage her companion's concerns.

Sookie found the doctor to be amusing and charming the entire time they were on their drive. Upon her return to Hardgrove Chase, Sookie found herself in high spirits, her heart a bit lighter for the first time in weeks.

Eric spied Sookie from the library window, as the doctor handed her and Tara down from the carriage. He growled furiously as he watched the doctor bow gallantly over Sookie's hand and kissed it lingeringly. Eric's fist pounded against the wall when Sookie graciously bowed in return and smiled up at the doctor, a becoming blush staining her cheeks.

_Me, she curses_! _Me, she ignores_, Eric thought, _but for that fool she smiles and laughs. _Without thought, Eric furiously strode from the library and charged down the hall and stairs to confront Sookie. _I will not be made a fool of! I am the Marquess of Huntley and she is my intended, no matter what she says to the contrary. She will be made to see reason and will not go gallivanting about the neighbourhood with foppish idiots like that sawbones!_

Eric reached the great hall just as Jenkins closed the door behind her.

'A pleasant outing, Miss Susannah?' asked Jenkins.

'Yes, Jenkins. Most enjoyable indeed,' said Sookie smiling at the butler. 'Tara, would you be so kind as to draw a bath? I feel quite dusty after being exposed to the road all afternoon,' said Sookie, shaking out her skirts slightly.

'Of course, Miss Sookie. I shall see to it right away,' said Tara, beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen as she spied the marquess charging down the hall towards her mistress.

'Jenkins, Mrs. Savoy is in need of your assistance,' said Eric darkly, shooting the butler a look which brooked no argument.

'Of course, sir,' said Jenkins scurrying out of the hall, following Tara to the kitchen.

'A word, madam,' Eric said, grabbing Sookie by the arm and dragging her into the drawing, firmly shutting the door behind him.

Shocked, Sookie tore her arm from Eric's grasp. 'How dare you manhandle me, sir! What is the meaning of this?' Sookie exclaimed outraged.

'My sentiments exactly, ma'am,' Eric countered. 'Do you mean to punish me by consorting with the doctor in plain sight of the neighbourhood?'

'Consort with? I did no such thing. John invited me–'

'John!'

'Yes, _John_. He asked me to accompany him on a ride to visit with his patients. He has great respect for my herbal remedies and wondered if I may be of assistance to him in his practice. It was all quite innocent, I assure you,' Sookie stated.

'Are you certain, madam? For it certainly did not appear so to me,' said Eric dangerously, his fists clenched at his sides. Sookie noted his harsh breath and the way his left eyebrow twitched in his agitation.

'Were you spying on me, my lord?' Sookie sputtered, only to be met by Eric's stony silence. 'You, sir, are unbelievable!'

'No, Susannah,' Eric hissed, 'what I find _unbelievable_ are your actions.'

'I am not accountable to you, my lord,' said Sookie, her voice dripping with disdain. 'What I do and with whom I choose to do it, is of no concern to anyone other than myself,' said Sookie, sweeping past Eric to the door.

'The devil it is!' said Eric grabbing her hand and pulling her into his arms. 'You are mine, Susannah!' declared Eric, shaking her slightly. 'Do you hear me, woman? Mine!' Eric exclaimed before his mouth crashed down upon hers.

Sookie pummeled her hands against his chest, desperately trying to break his hold, but Eric only tightened his arms around her, further trapping her against his hard chest.

_No, _Sookie thought_, no I cannot give in to this. I must be strong!_ She struggled further, moving her head to the side, only for Eric's kisses to land on her neck, causing her to shiver. At her reaction, Eric looked up at Sookie with a smug smirk before capturing her lips, once again, in a deep , penetrating kiss. His tongue forcing its way into her warm, soft mouth.

Sookie continued to to fight Eric only to give up with a defeated sigh. She gave way to her heart and before she realised what she was doing, returned Eric's kiss with equal fervour.

Eric kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip and gripping her waist tightly. His hands moved to the soft flesh of her bottom and ground her against his growing passion. Sookie gasped at the delicious sensations coursing through her body. She felt intoxicated by his kisses, his ardorous touch. She helplessly clung to his shoulders for support, drawing him closer. She shifted her body and pressed herself fully against him.

Eric heard her moan at the close contact and he silently rejoiced. He felt her hands in his hair, pulling and tugging, begging for more.

Eric plunged his hands into her soft curls, loosening her already precarious chignon. He felt her hair cascade down her back, cloaking his hands in velvety gold. He gripped her hair roughly and pulled her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Sookie saw the hard set of his jaw, his unsmiling mouth. His eyes blazed with passion, but there was anger simmering just below the surface.

'Eric,' she said questioningly.

'You. Are. Mine,' Eric said, enunciating every work.

'What?' Sookie asked confused, the haze slowly leaving her passion-fuddled brain.

'You are mine, Susannah Stackhouse. You will _never_ let another man escort you anywhere without _my_ permission. And you will certainly _not_ let that doctor touch you. Ever again. _I _am the Marquess of Huntley and I _will not_ be made a fool of.'

Sookie pushed herself from Eric's arms. Her anger returning to her once again.'How da re you!' she raged, punching his chest with her small fist . 'You will not be made a fool of? _You_, sir, do not own me!'

'Oh yes I do,' Eric countered. 'I own you, Susannah Stackhouse, heart and soul. You will let let go of your foolish notions and you _will _yield to me,' Eric said.

'Arrrgh!' Sookie screeched, lifting her hands in frustration. 'You are _the _most insufferable, stupid, arrogant, pig-headed man!' Sookie yelled, as she stormed away from Eric, fully intent on ending the conversation before she struck him again.

'You will not walk away from me, Susannah!' said Eric, grabbing Sookie by the waist, forcing her to turn and face him.

'Unhand me, you… you… ass!' Sookie's hands beat against his shoulders as she struggled to free herself, eventually forcing Eric to release her.

'I will not allow you to leave this room until you consent to marry me. Your stubbornness ends today, Susannah. I will no longer tolerate such behaviour.'

Sookie looked at Eric with such scathing. Through gritted teeth she replied, 'I would not marry you, my lord, were you the last man on earth. Your high-handedness, indeed, your very arrogance has done nothing to aid your cause. I have quickly come to realise that marriage to you would be totally untenable. You would never treat me as an equal. You view me as an inferior, someone you can bend to your will. Clearly, sir, you have mistaken me. I may be a mere woman and a colonial, but I have a heart and a mind and a will of my own,' said Sookie, her voice passionate. She took a steadying breath before continuing, tears threatening to spill forth.

'I beg of you, my lord, please desist with your attentions and declarations of love. They are inappropriate. And they are definitely unwanted. I will _never_ marry you.'

For a moment, a look of hurt flitted across Eric's face, then it was gone. A mask of cold detachment slid onto his face as he answered, 'As you wish, madam. I will bother you no further. Good day, Miss Stackhouse.' Eric gave a perfunctory bow before leaving the drawing room, slamming the door behind him.

Sookie slumped down onto the nearest chair and sobbed. During dinner that evening, Hadley informed Sookie that Eric had returned to London on business. He did not say when he would return.

It had been nearly a month since Eric's departure and Sookie was no closer to expelling the marquess from her heart. Though her position had not changed in his absence, her heart still ached for him. Her lips still longed for his kiss and her body craved the shelter of his arms. In a word, she felt adrift, lost without him. In a word, Sookie was damned.

'Damn you, Eric Northman!'

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><p><strong>Review! Coming up: More angst, some tragedy and maybe some lemons...<strong>


	10. Trust Me

**A/N:OK, so I know I promised some lemons, but there aren't any really in this chapter. I realised that the last chapter was soooo angsty and that at the moment, there is a HUGE rift between these two. So I needed to create an event that would bring them back together and have them function in a non-combative way, hopefully leading to some kind of reconciliation. I hope you won't find it boring, but as I have now plotted out the rest of the story, this chapter is key in progressing the storyline. **

**Next chapter should be more the ticket. I have already started writing it, spurred on by last week's TB and not in a good way. More as a way of "writing" (see what I did there) some wrongs. Like, was anyone else TOTALLY not feeling the Eric/Sookie/Bill vampwich that AB presented us with? I think it shows that I'm really NOT a Bill fan. I am also a bit peeved (well, actually, really POed) as this season is supposed to be for Eric/Sookie lovers and AB seems to be pulling them further and further apart as the season progresses. What is with Bill saving Sookie - AGAIN! Seriously, can Eric save Sookie every now and again? Jeesh!**

**OK, so rant over! **Thank you to everyone who is following, reading and reviewing my story! Seriously, I love your feedback and support.! I'm just glad I'm not boring everyone! You guys are amazing and the reason I write - so thanks again - big hugs to everyone!****

**I hope you enjoy this chapter - let me know what you think! R&R!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 10: Trust Me<strong>_

Hunter kicked a stone in the drive discontentedly. Ever since the sparrow incident and his uncle's quiet stricture on the matter, he had not really been able to find much to amuse him. And now Uncle Eric had been in London for nigh on three months and Hunter found himself increasingly at a loss for entertainment. At first it had been great fun to hang about the stables, but Uncle Eric had purchased more horses so that his friend Dawson had less time for him. In addition, Uncle Eric had specifically forbidden such amusements as climbing out of windows, wandering the estate without permission, teasing the bull, or setting snares for Mrs. Jenkins' chickens. Uncle Eric had also been very plain on what he considered other evils and reluctantly Hunter saw that his days were grossly unexciting. It was really not fair. And though he would have felt no compunction about disobeying Jenkins or Tara or even his mother, there was something about the expression in the Marquess of Huntley's eyes that warned him to abide by his uncle's new set of rules.

As for Cousin Susannah, she was of no use to him. Hunter had observed that uncle Eric often listened to Cousin Susannah, though he pretended not to. He had hoped that cousin Susannah might intervene with his uncle on his behalf. But she, too, had read him a short lecture and her tone had been decisive. He could not look for leniency there.

Hunter's restless eyes roved over the grove of trees alongside the drive. He had that terrible feeling of aloneness that he so often got. He did not know or understand why, but it normally drove him to do things that he might not conceive of, if only to escape that awful feeling for a time. It always came back, though, whenever he was alone but especially at night. At night was when he thought about his father, his jolly papa who had played with him and quietly talked with him as though he was much older. One day Papa had put on his soldier's uniform and gone far away. He used to think about his mother at night, too, but she was getting better and better and he saw more of her. But though he loved his mother, it was not the same as being with his papa.

Hunter's eyes blurred. He swiped away the tears with the back of his hand. That awful hollowness seized him and he began to run, heedless of direction or obstacles.

When at last he stopped, his lungs hurt with the great gulps of air that he pulled in and his legs trembled. He was sweaty and his face and hands were scratched and stinging from the whip of branches, grass and nettles. His short coat was ripped at the shoulder and his trousers were streaked with dirt, but he spared not a thought for his clothes.

Hunter leaned against the rough bark of a wide oak, his chest heaving. The feeling was gone. As he blinked the perspiration out of his eyes, he became aware of the sound of running water over rocks. He stumbled forward to the edge of a tranquil and sun-dappled stream. Throwing himself to the ground he ducked his head into the cool water. When he raised his head he was spluttering. Droplets sprayed as he shook his wet hair. Hunter cupped his hand and drank deeply before rolling over on his back. He rested on the bank for a time, staring up into the branches of oak and willow and birch. Through the leaves he could see the clouds moving majestically across the blue sky and his thoughts moved slowly with them.

He must have slept because when he next became aware of his surroundings the position of the sun had changed and his hair was dry. Hunter sat up. He spied a squirrel and he watched as the small creature scurried up the trunk of a slender birch. Just as the squirrel's weight threatened to collapse the thin branches, it leaped across to a second tree leaving, the first tree dipping and swaying. Hunter laughed. The squirrel, startled by the alien sound, chirruped agitatedly and whisked its golden-brown tail up and down.

Hunter looked thoughtfully at the still swaying tree. His knowledgeable eyes measured the trunk. The tree would bear his weight up to a point. He rose, dusting off his hands, and shimmied up the tree. The higher he went the more he felt the trunk sway. His heart pounded with each dip of the trunk but he only climbed higher. The top of the supple tree suddenly dipped down in a dizzying fast arc. The boy's legs flew free but he still held tightly to the trunk with his hands. Just feet above the ground, Hunter lost his grip. The tree snapped upright and he tumbled to the grassy ground. He lay stunned a moment, his heart racing as he caught his breath. Then he leaped up and raced again to the tree.

Time and again Hunter climbed the tree to experience the crazy descent. He became even bolder and climbed higher before letting go with his legs. Delighted laughter burst from him with each frightening ride. At first he did not hear and then he did not pay attention to the ominous groan that began to grow a bit louder with his continued play. He noticed only that the tree seemed to lean a little more than it had.

Suddenly the slender trunk snapped in two, the broken half of it gripped futilely between Hunter's hands as he fell. His eyes flew open to their widest extent. His mouth opened in a soundless scream. The sky tipped madly, green rushed past him. The iron ground drove pain into him and Hunter's world disappeared.

The sun was nearly set when the boy at last sighed and stirred. White hot pain shot through his body with the slight movement. He cried out and became fully conscious. Slowly, carefully, Hunter raised his head to look down at himself. His left leg lay at an awkward angle. Even as his mind coolly took note of the fact, he tested his arms one at a time. Bruised and shaken though he was, the boy gripped his lower lip between his teeth and raised himself to a sitting position. He already knew from the way his left leg felt that it was the center of the pain. But it was not until he could see his ripped, bloodied trousers and the bone jutting out of the stretched skin that the pain truly hit him. His face blanched. It hurt so badly that he could barely keep from crying out. His fingers clenched in the grass on either side of his thin shanks. He bit his lip hard, tasting blood.

'Papa would not cry! He would not ever cry,' Hunter said, manfully. A desolation washed over him. 'Papa!' He choked on a sob and tears slipped down his dirty cheeks. 'Papa, I need you,' Hunter whispered. 'Please… Papa…'

An owl called softly on the breeze as the sun finally set and the sky was cloaked in darkness.

Sookie took a restless turn about the drawing room. She did not know how long she had paced. She threw another glance at the clock on the mantel and smacked her hands together, wringing them in agitation. The drawing room door opened and she turned quickly.

'Miss Stackhouse, did you not hear me at the door? Where the devil is everyone? The door was wide open when I arrived and Jenkins was nowhere to be seen,' said Eric, pulling off his gloves and caped greatcoat.

'Oh, Eric! Thank God you are returned!' Sookie exclaimed, running into the marquess' arms and gripping the lapels of his jacket.

Eric caught her in his arms and lowered his face to her hair. 'My dear Susannah, had I known you would receive me in this manner, I would have endeavoured to be here sooner,' he said, jestingly, luxuriating in the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her hair in his nostrils. _Could it be?_ Eric thought. _Has she had a change of heart?_ Eric allowed himself to hope, allowed himself to believe that she had reconsidered his proposal. Then her sobs registered with him and he gently pulled her away. He placed his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him.

'My love, what is it? What has upset you so?' Eric said, concern in his voice. Sookie only shook her head and sobbed harder into his chest. Eric had no choice but to place his arms around her once again in an attempt to soothe her. He had never had to comfort a sobbing woman and did not know where to begin with Sookie. 'Please, my love,' he said helplessly. 'You must calm yourself.'

'Eric, no… you don't… you don't understand,' Sookie said, crying hysterically. 'It's Hunter. He's missing! No one has seen him since luncheon and now it has grown dark. We have searched everywhere for him, but he is not to be found about the house or stables. Jenkins and Dawson have searched the immediate grounds but are still unable to locate him. I don't know where else to look. Oh… whatever shall I tekll Hadley. I am responsible for him! Oh, Eric…'

Eric stared down into her anxious teary eyes. He was too well used to Sookie's steady nature to believe other than that she spoke the truth. 'Sookie, please, you must calm yourself,' he repeated, in an effort to halt her hysterics.

'My lord, you know that I am not a female given to vague fears. I know that something dreadful has befallen him. I can feel it!'

Eric nodded solemnly. 'Has the copse been scoured and the meadow across the hedgegrows?'

'Yes, yes! I have been out myself with Jenkins and Tara. Dawson and the two new grooms have searched as well and have found no sign of him. I don't know what to tell Hadley. She will have to know, but I have put it off until she comes down to dinner. It makes me ill to think that I may have to impart terrible news to her of Hunter,' said Sookie, her tears falling fast at the thought of her cousin's suffering.

'No, there is no need for Hadley to know just yet.' Eric's expression was hard. 'The rascal has gone far afield, then. When I find him I will have something to say to him about it.' He looked down at Sookie, rubbing her arms in a soothing manner. He gently pulled his kerchief from his breast pocket and gently wiped the tears from Sookie's cheek, eventually surrendering it to her. Once he'd felt she had calmed herself sufficiently, Eric spoke again.

'Now, my love, I need you to do something for me. I need you to ring for Jenkins and request lanterns. And we need something of Hunter's for the hounds.'

'Hounds!' exclaimed Sookie, staring at him. She walked from him hurriedly and pulled on the bell rope hanging beside the sofa.

Eric favoured Sookie with a faint grin, though the amusement did not quite reach his eyes. 'My groom and I brought back a few hounds from London. I wanted to try the hunter I bought a few months ago from Henry Price to see how it would go with a pack,' he said. 'Now it seems that the hounds must be put to quite another use. Damn the boy! I spoke to him about his escapades before I departed and warned him not to do anything foolish or there would be severe punishment.'

'He is not a boy one can effectively hem in. It is a miracle he has been able to behave himself these three months gone,' said Sookie, sounding more herself.

Eric caught her gaze, recalling how grim he had been with her over the sparrow incident, and he laughed. 'Your point is well-taken, Susannah,' said Eric, moving towards the sofa where Sookie now sat. He knelt down in front of her and took her small hands in his. 'Susannah, after I find the boy, I wish to speak with you about...'

'Eric?' Sookie asked, her face awashed in confusion.

'Sookie, I have been the greatest of fools. I seek-'

'Jenkins,' Sookie said, standing up and walking to the butler who had now entered the drawing room.

Eric looked up, startled by Sookie's sudden movement. He had been on the verge of begging Sookie's forgiveness. In his time away from her, he'd realised that he had gone about his proposal all wrong. But, alas, his confession would have to wait. Now was neither the time nor place for heart-felt confessions. He took a moment to collect himself before smoothly standing to face the butler.

'Ah, Jenkins! I am informed that Master Hunter has gotten himself lost. We will require lanterns and one of the boy's jackets or shirts at once. Bring them to the stable. I will be readying the mounts and the hounds.'

The butler's face did not change expression. 'Very good, my lord.' He left on his errands.

Eric turned to Sookie with a soft smile. 'Susannah, I must go. But rest assured that I will find him.' Eric was about to leave the drawing room when Sookie caught his sleeve.

'Pray have a horse saddled for me, Eric. I shall go with you,' she said.

'The devil you say! You are clearly overwrought and not yourself. You are in no condition to ride and shall _not_ risk your safety, Susannah. No, you shall remain here and soothe Hadley,' said Eric.

'I will do no such thing!' said Sookie, the fire returning to her. 'That can far better be left to Hadley's maid, who has a way with her mistress that cannot be excelled. I shall inform Amelia at once of the matter and then I shall join you in the stables,' said Sookie with determination, sweeping past him through the door. On the stairs she paused. 'And I would take grave exception to your going without me, my lord.'

Eric looked startled then he grinned. 'You know my mind too well, my love. I see that you are determined. Very well, I shall wait on you. But only a few minutes, mind. I wish to begin this search as swiftly as possible.'

'That is all I ask,' said Sookie. She had at last noticed that he had called her his love and her face warmed with colour. Despite the current strain in their relationship, she found that his endearment had done wonders for her bruised heart. She recalled his words before they were interrupted by Jenkins. Had Eric realised his error during their separartion? Would he treat her as his equal?

With one last glance at him, Sookie lifted her skirts and ran lightly up the stairs, hope quickening her steps.

The party that set out from Hardgrove Chase consisted of Eric, Dawson and Sookie. The hounds had quickly gotten the scent of the boy from one of his shirts and nosed about for the trail. One of his dogs bayed suddenly and loped off, the rest of the pack surging after it. The riders spurred after the hounds, their lanterns bobbing crazily over the ground.

It began to rain lightly. The marquess cast a glance up at the dark sky, his face carved in grim lines. He knew that if the boy were too far afield the scent would be washed away in the rain before he was found. Fear rode him and he urged on the hounds with harsh shouts.

Hunter was found closer than expected. He lay curled in an awkward ball in a small clearing. The hounds circled him excitedly. Eric jumped off his horse and waded through the dogs, cursing fluently. Sookie and Dawson also dismounted and came quickly across the wet grass, as the rain began to fall harder. Eric set his lantern down beside the boy's head. Its light illuminated Hunter's whitened cheek, streaked with dirt and tears. Eric knelt and gently turned his nephew over.

The boy was breathing shallow, rapid breaths and he shuddered convulsively with cold as the rain began to beat heavily against his exposed limbs. His eyes remained closed. 'Hunter? Hunter!' The boy's lashes fluttered but did not open. Eric bent to raise him from the ground.

'Wait, my lord!' Dawson held his lantern high. 'His leg is broke. Best tie it afore lifting him onto your brute.'

Eric's mouth tightened as he gazed on the ugly wound, now swollen and black with bruising. He nodded abruptly. 'Find some suitable branches, Dawson.' Gently he lowered his nephew's shoulders back onto the ground. The marquess unclasped the stickpin that secured his voluminous neckcloth and stripped off the length of silk.

Sookie knelt beside her small cousin, not heeding the water that soaked her hair and riding clothes. Brushing aside his tumbled hair, she laid a cool hand against his forehead. 'He is burning with fever,' she said quietly.

Eric ruthlessly ripped his expensive neckcloth into lengths. 'He will be fortunate if he does not die from exposure,' he said grimly.

Dawson returned with two long branches that he had trimmed clean. Eric nodded to him and without a word exchanged the two men prepared to set the broken limb. Sookie took firm hold of Hunter's shoulders, dreading the moment that the leg was straightened. It was as bad as she thought possible. The boy's body rose under her straining hands. He cried out in a succession of rising screams and his hands tore frantically at her restraining arms. At last it was done. The boy went limp, sobbing pitifully.

Sookie sat back on her heels, shaken in every nerve, silently crying for the boy. Eric wrapped his nephew in his coat, throwing a glance at her as he did so. 'Are you all right, Susannah?' He asked worriedly. She nodded and got to her feet, turning away toward her horse. The marquess jerked his head at Dawson, who hurried to aid Sookie into her saddle.

With the boy held against his chest, Eric walked to his mount. He waited for Dawson and gave his nephew into the man's hold. Then he stepped into the saddle and reached down to once more take the boy. Eric settled Hunter as comfortably as he could before him in the saddle before he started the horse into a walk.

Hunter sighed. He knew that somehow he had been found and he was safe. He burrowed closer against the reassuring security of his uncle's body.

'Uncle Eric,' he breathed. 'I'm sorry. But you didn't say anything about trees.'

Eric looked down at the top of his unruly head. The worry he felt sharpened his voice to anger. 'My God, boy, what were you thinking of?'

The boy's eyes flew open and in a passing shaft of moonlight they were quite lucid. 'Papa. I was thinking of Papa.' His lashes drooped once more and his chin sank onto his chest.

When the search party returned to Hardgrove Chase the dinner hour had nearly come and gone. The marquess carried his nephew inside the house, leaving his mount to Dawson's care. Sookie followed him, pausing only long enough to give instructions to Jenkins, who met them at the door. The butler nodded and went at once to carry out his orders.

As Eric strode through the hall, Hadley came out of the drawing room at a rush. Her face was white and her eyes were large pools of anxiety. She exclaimed incoherently at the sight of her son lying limp and unmoving in his uncle's arms. His head had fallen back over Eric's arm and Hadley realised that he was unconscious. The maid, Amelia, who accompanied her, laid a calming hand on her mistress'arm, but Hadley shook her off. She caught up with Eric at the stairs.

'Eric! What has happened? Is he… Oh dear God…' Hadley could not finish her statement as she stared helplessly at her child. She pressed her hand to her mouth in an attempt to tamp down her fear. Sookie moved immediately to Hadley's side and wrapped her arm around her cousin's shaking shoulders.

'Dead? No, he is not dead! Out of my way, Hadley. He needs to be put to bed,' said Eric impatiently. He brushed past the women and quickly took the stairs.

'Hunter has suffered a broken leg, Hadley, and he was horribly soaked and chilled by the rain. Once he is warm and comfortable he will be fine,' Sookie said soothingly.

Hadley clutched her arm. 'With Remy gone and wondering everyday if he is safe, alive… Sookie, I… I could not bear it if anything should happen to Hunter. He and I are all either of us have right now.'

Sookie met Amelia's eyes and the woman nodded slightly. 'I understand, Hadley. I think it best if you go with Amelia now. It would not do for you to appear at Hunter's bedside just yet. Your tears would frighten him.'

Hadley dashed her hands across her eyes. 'You are right, of course. How incredibly silly of me. But Sookie – the doctor! He must be sent for.'

'I have already requested Jenkins send someone for the good doctor. Do go on, Hadley. I shall look in on Hunter myself and after I have seen him I shall come at once to you,' said Sookie.

Hadley nodded. 'Very well, I shall do as you ask. Thank you, cousin. You truly are a godsend.' She allowed Amelia to lend her support for the climb up the stairs.

Sookie did not match her cousin's slower steps but swiftly went up to her room to change out of her wet clothes. Tara was already waiting for her with towels and a dry dress at the ready. In less than five minutes, Sookie was at the nursery door. She pushed open the door and Eric looked up at her entrance but he did not address her. He was holding his nephew's hand. Tara followed swiftly behind Sookie carrying a clean nightshirt for Hunter. She asked the marquess to hold the boy whilst she put the clean shirt on him. Hunter was conscious. His lips were compressed and his small face tight. His limbs were nearly rigid and his body jumped at the least jar to his leg. At last the task was done and the marquess gently laid him down on the pillows. Hunter sighed in relief and turned his head aside to the wall.

Sookie came up to the bed. As best she could without touching the leg she studied the wound. It was inflamed and filthy and swollen. Sight of the fractured bone was almost obliterated by the traumatised flesh around it, but it looked to have been cleanly set. When she retreated from the bedside, Eric took her place, dragging a chair close so that he could sit beside his nephew. He took Hunter's limp hand in his own.

Tara, who had observed her mistress' frown, moved a little away from the bed to join Sookie. 'What do you think, Miss Sookie?' asked Tara quietly.

Sookie turned to her. Her low voice was crisp. 'It must be cleaned immediately, Tara. Already infection has set in. I shall have to gather some fresh herbs. The medicinal cabinet is woefully inadequate. Pray ask Mrs. Jenkins to heat some water. I shall need it to steep the comfrey and the catnip tea,' she said. Tara nodded and departed from the room.

Sookie was about to follow when her arm was taken in a strong grip. She looked up startled.

'What are you intending, Susannah? I warn you, I'll not have my nephew quacked,' said Eric harshly.

Sookie raised her brows. 'I do not intend quackery, Eric,' Sookie said calmly, knowing that the harshness of his tone was the result of his concern for his nephew. 'That wound must be cleaned a soon as possible if we are to prevent blood poisoning. I intend to apply a poultice of comfrey, commonly known as knitbone. Comfrey has been used since the Middle Ages to promote the mending of bones and reduce swelling of wounds. As for the catnip tea, it will aid in reducing Hunter's fever. Believe me, he will be much more comfortable for it.' She glanced down at Eric's hand. 'If you will release me, my lord, I shall be about my task.'

Eric stared at her, frowning. Vaguely he recalled from his childhood his nurse extolling the virtues of knitbone and other herbs. He was not certain that he placed much stock in herbal remedies as others did, but there was no denying that the teas Sookie made up for Hadley had been of benefit to his sister-in-law's nerves. And he too had recognised the insidious signs of infection in the flesh torn by the fractured bone. The very thought of blood poisoning left him cold, but he was helpless to do anything for his nephew except wait for the doctor to arrive. Sookie at least offered some sort of action and she was capable, dependable. He realized that he trusted her with his life, and by extension, Hunter's. Slowly he let go of her arm.

'Very well, Sookie. I trust you.'

'Thank you, Eric,' she said, squeezing his hand and giving him a small smile. For a moment, the two just gazed into the other's eyes allowing words, unspoken, to pass between them. With his free hand, Eric smoothed away a stray lock of hair which had fallen loose from the hastily tied bun at Sookie's neck. He stroked her soft cheek, taking comfort in her warmth. Eventually, he returned her smile, reluctantly releasing her a moment later.

With one last look at Eric, Sookie turned to the door and left the nursery, a smile still lighting her lips as she set about her tasks.

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><p><strong><em>Review! Coming up: Tragedy, tension and definite lemons!<em>**


	11. Through the Fire

**A/N: Massive thanks yous to one and all! Again, all of your kind words and support have been truly wonderful. **

**Not going to say too much about this chapter as I don't want to ruin anything.**

**Only one episode left of TB Season 4 (sniff... sniff). Will be seriously pissed off if Sookie returns to Bill the douchebag. But, quite honestly, I won't really be surprised if that is what happens as AB seems to hate Eric. He is all up Bill's you-know-what! Anyway, rant over.  
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**Just read and review and let me know what you all think!**_**  
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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 11: Through the Fire<strong>_

Sookie returned to Hunter's room with the poultice, a sandwich of thin cloths containing the boiled comfrey leaves. She was not surprised by Eric's grim expression or the sound of whimpering from the bed. It could not have been a pleasant experience for Hunter to have the tender wound cleaned, and certainly his uncle appeared the worse for wear from enduring the sight and sound of his nephew's torment.

Sookie went over to the bed. Without a word she positioned the poultice over the open wound and gently pressed it into place. Hunter jumped and then lay tensed in every muscle, but when there was no additional pain and instead, a soothing warmth, he slowly relaxed.

'It is only a poultice, Hunter, that will help take down the swelling,' said Sookie quietly.

With swift fingers she securely bandaged the poultice across the wound. The boy nodded and closed his eyes with a sigh.

The bedroom door opened and Mrs. Jenkins entered. The cup of tea she carried was greenish in colour. 'Here is Mrs. Jenkins, Hunter, with a nice cup of warm tea with a bit of honey to sweeten it. Drink it up now, there's a good boy,' she said.

'I don't want any tea,' groaned Hunter.

'You shall drink it, however. Mrs. Jenkins has gone through a great deal of trouble to prepare it and you are in need of fluids, my boy,' said Eric sternly. He slipped his arm under the boy's shoulders to raise him up, then took the cup from Mrs. Jenkins with a nod of thanks. Placing the cup to his nephew's lips he encouraged him to drain the tea. When Hunter had finished, coughing a little, Eric laid him down gently again on the pillows. He looked up at the women. 'Pray go about your usual schedules, ladies, I shall sit with Hunter myself tonight.'

Sookie's heart squeezed at Eric's show of devotion for his nephew. 'Very well, Eric. I shall look in again in an hour or so,' she said.

The women quietly left the bedroom. Sookie went at once to her cousin's apartment. Amelia let her in and at the sight of her, Hadley sprang up from her chair. 'Sookie! I have grown positively distracted waiting for you. Tell me how Hunter is, I beg you.'

'He is much more comfortable than previously, Hadley. The bone is cleanly set and I have put on a poultice to reduce the swelling. Mrs. Jenkins made up some chamomile tea to soothe his nerves and he will probably sleep for some time. He was exhausted by the ordeal, poor little thing,' said Sookie.

Relief eased Hadley's tight expression. 'I am so glad that he is all right. Has the doctor been in to see him yet?' she asked.

'I don't think that he has arrived yet or else Jenkins would have let us know,' said Sookie.

'I know that between you and Eric, all that can be done has been done. Sookie, do you think I may go in and see Hunter?' asked Hadley.

'Of course you may, cousin. His lordship is sitting with him now and will likely be glad of your company. Hunter is not prattling on like he usually does, you know,' said Sookie dryly.

Hadley gave her a swift hug of gratitude. 'Oh, Sookie! I know that everything will be fine when you can joke about it,' said Hadley. She left the bedroom without a backward glance.

Sookie tiredly made her way to her own room. The discomfort of her damp clothing suddenly struck her and she started to rid herself of the scratchy woolen dress and boots. It would be wonderful to slip into a warm bath and a comfortable well-worn dress and stockings. She pulled on the bell next to the bed and Tara answered its summons from her own quarters.

'Tara, could you prevail on Mrs. Jenkins to put on another pot of water? I should so like a bath,' she said.

'I have already done so, Miss Sookie,' said Tara with a lurking smile. She reached behind the door and pulled a brass hipbath into view.

'You anticipate me too well, my friend. If I am not careful you will soon be reading my very thoughts,' said Sookie laughing.

'We've been together a _long_ time, Miss Sookie. What kinda maid would I be if I didn't know what you needed, when you needed it?' said Tara in mock affront.

Sookie just smiled as her companion positioned the hipbath in front of the fireplace and put up a screen that would protect Sookie from drafts. There was a brass pot of cool water standing beside the grate and Tara poured it into the hipbath before she left to go for the hot water.

Sookie finished undressing and drew on a dressing gown, belting it tightly about her neat waist. Seating herself on the bench in front of her mirror, she began to take the pins from her hair. The heavy braid that made up her usual neat chignon fell down her back nearly to her waist. She drew the plait back over her shoulder to unravel the damp braid, she shook out her loosened hair so that it could dry.

Tara returned with a brass pot of steaming water and poured it into the bath. Mrs. Jenkins had followed her with an additional pot of water and put it on the fireplace grate where it would be in reach and could be added to re-warm the bathwater as it grew cool.

Sookie twisted up her damp hair and pinned it up on the top of her head before stepping into the bath. Tara grabbed the soap and a soft sponge and began scrubbing her mistress' back and neck. When she was finished, she handed Sookie the small bar of soap and the sponge and retired to her room.

Sookie lay in the water, luxuriating in the steaming warmth and letting her tense muscles relax. She had not realised how strongly Hunter's accident had affected her. It had very nearly taken all her strength to hold him down while his leg was set. Sookie thought she would never forget his agonized screams and how he had twisted to get away. _Hadley is not the only one who goes to pieces over that child,_ thought Sookie. She had grown extremely fond of her little cousin. It would be difficult to leave him behind when she returned home, for it would likely be years before she saw him again.

Sookie stared across the fire's yellow flames. She wondered why she should be thinking of leaving Hardgrove Chase. Tears surfaced unbidden and she let out a strangled sob. Eric's face arose vividly in her mind.

'How could I have let this happen? How could I have allowed myself to fall in love with him?' Sookie exclaimed as she continued to cry. She reached for the soap and vigorously scrubbed herself until her skin shown red from her rough treatment. It was as though she were trying to eradicate her treacherous feelings.

But Sookie knew in her heart that she loved Eric Northman beyond anything she had ever experienced. His tenderness and care for Hunter, indeed, for her, had only served to further cement his place in her heart. When he held her upon his return, trying valiantly to staunch her tears and calm her fears, she had allowed herself to melt into his embrace and bask in the strength of his arms. Sookie knew, without doubt, that she would love Eric Northman until she drew her last breath.

With a deep sigh, Sookie reached across the bath and pulled the large bath sheet that Tara had left draped over the screen towards her. Sookie stepped out of the bath and dried herself quickly. She pulled on her robe and sat on the bench in front of her dressing table. As she began to brush out her damp curls, it occurred to Sookie that Jason was still in London. She could join him there and escape her heartbreak. London would have many diversions for her and Tara. Perhaps distance from Eric was exactly what her heart needed to mend.

Sookie was immediately disgusted with herself. 'How cowardly, when I have always prided myself on a resolute character,' she said. She would not flee Hardgrove Chase. 'I cannot abandon Hunter and Hadley. They need me. I must stay and do all I can to ensure Hunter's recovery.'

With a determined nod, Sookie re-braided her nearly dry hair and pinned it at the back of her head. Dressing in a comfortable yellow stuff gown, Sookie returned to Hunter's room to find that Hadley had already left. Eric and the doctor were in consultation beside the bed. They looked around at her entrance.

'Ah, Miss Stackhouse! It is a pleasure to see you this evening. Though, once again, I wish it could be under happier circumstances,' said the doctor jovially, coming forward to take her hand. He placed a light kiss on it and gave her a warm smile.

Sookie blushed at the effusiveness of his greeting. She suddenly recalled Eric's observation that the doctor admired her. She glanced at Eric and saw the tenseness in his jaw and the straight set of his chin. His eyes burned with fury and Sookie quickly pulled her hand from the doctor's grasp. She knew that Eric was very sensitive to the doctor's attention of her and did not want to further provoke his ire.

'Why, thank you, Mr. Turpin. I assume that you have been examining our patient,' she said quietly, moving to stand beside Eric.

The doctor nodded. 'I was just telling his lordship that between the lot of you, you have done an excellent job. I was particularly interested in the knitbone poultice. I have seen such rarely in the past few years, but that old remedy is naturally as effective as ever. I assumed it was your doing, Miss Stackhouse?' He looked at her with obvious admiration and approval.

Sookie blushed again at his praise and inclined her head. She heard the low growl released by the marquess at the doctor's words and decided to act before Eric could.

'I hope that I may assume that Hunter is on the mend.'

The doctor pushed out his lower lip in a thoughtful expression. 'As to that, I do not like the infection that has set in. The boy would be far better off without it, but we must deal with what we find. I have told his lordship that is my main concern. I have left an antiseptic powder for the wound and I recommend the continued use of the knitbone. Also, I should like the boy dosed with garlic water at regular intervals to guard against blood poisoning. Sweeten it with a bit of honey if he objects too strongly at the taste.'

Sookie and the doctor came up to the bedside table as they talked. Sookie looked down at the sleeping boy. She bent to lay her hand on Hunter's pale brow.

'He still has a fever,' she said softly.

'Aye. That will be from the infection. The boy's temperature must be kept down as low as possible. I predict a crisis point will be reached in the next several hours. Then we will know if blood poisoning has set in or not,' said the doctor, looking at Sookie with concerned eyes.

Eric stood behind Sookie, dwarfing her with his huge frame as he placed comforting hands on her shoulders. The contact with Sookie seemed to soothe the beast raging within Eric. She glanced over her shoulder at the marquess and gave him a gentle smile before returning her attention to the doctor.

The doctor noted the closeness between Miss Stackhouse and the marquess. Suddenly he knew that his campaign to win Susannah's heart was lost. He knew from that one glance that Susannah Stackhouse had formed an attachment to the Marquess of Huntley. The doctor had been captivated by Miss Stackhouse the moment he'd laid his eyes upon her and in the past months had grown to love and admire her. He had hoped to make his intentions known and had planned to write to her brother in London for permission to court her openly. He knew there would be no obstacle to his suit. She was young and beautiful, highly intelligent and capable. She was the ideal companion for a young and ambitious doctor.

But now, as he observed the intimacy in the marquess' touch and the softness in Susannah's gaze, he knew that his suit was hopeless. There was no way the third son of a baronet could ever compete with a distinguished and esteemed peer of the realm.

The marquess' voice pulled the doctor from his bleak thoughts. 'Mrs. Jenkins has given the boy a tea for fever,' said Eric.

Sookie answered the quizzical question in the doctor's eyes. 'Catnip tea with a good amount of peppermint and chamomile,' she said quietly.

The doctor nodded. 'Another good remedy, though perhaps in this case it will not be as efficacious as one could hope. I suspect the infection will give the boy a strong fight. Nevertheless, the tea will help to make him less restless.'

'Is there anything more that we can do for my nephew?' asked Eric.

The doctor shook his head. He reached for his bag and closed it. 'At this point we can only wait, my lord. I shall return in the morning to see how he is getting on.'

The marquess offered his hand to the doctor. The doctor hesitated for the briefest moment before accepting. 'I thank you, sir, for your efforts on my nephew's behalf.'

'No trouble at all, my lord,' said the doctor, tightly. Sookie moved to follow the doctor to the door but he waved her off. 'No, no, Miss Stackhouse, do not exert yourself. After my several visits to Mrs. Savoy, I know my way out.' With one last sad look at Sookie, the doctor left the bedroom.

Eric looked at Sookie. 'I must apologise, Susannah.'

Sookie was bewildered. 'Whatever for, Eric?'

'I recall quite distinctly of accusing you of practicing quackery,' said Eric. 'I have been firmly set in my place from ignorance.'

Sookie chuckled. 'Anyone who has not been exposed to herbs and their uses would certainly say the same, my lord. But it must be remembered that many powders and tonics prescribed by our doctors have come directly from such origins.'

'I perceive that my education is strongly lacking in useful knowledge. Perhaps you will enlighten me in the days to come,' said Eric with a smile, his eyes warm and friendly.

Sookie felt her heart turn over. The intimacy of his gaze struck at her defenses. She could hardly bear his close proximity, though she craved it. Her senses tingled with the sudden awareness of his maleness.

With an effort she managed to speak with a teasing note in her voice. 'Certainly, Eric. Though it is said that one cannot teach an old dog new tricks.'

'We shall see, Susannah. I should like to find out, in any event. Come, we must not delay dinner any further. Jenkins informed me some minutes ago that he would be serving a late supper within the quarter-hour,' said Eric, taking Sookie's arm.

She glanced back at Hunter. 'But should someone not sit with him?'

'Hunter is sleeping peacefully at the moment and Hadley will return shortly. She went down to the dining room at the insistence of her maid, whom I perceive to be a woman of sterling quality and inflexible will. Hadley consented to leave once she learned that her son was in no immediate danger. However, she announced that she means to sit with Hunter tonight,' said Eric. He drew Sookie out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the stairs.

'But Hadley is still so easily fatigued,' said Sookie.

The marquess shrugged. 'My sister-in-law has steel hidden somewhere within that fragile exterior. I suspect that when it comes to the welfare of her husband and son, Hadley's determination to do as she thinks best will overcome all our objections.'

Sookie made no further objections, certain that the marquess' analysis of her cousin was correct. Hadley would certainly do all in her power to protect those she passionately loved. But Sookie decided privately that she would relieve her in the early morning hours. Her cousin did not need to run herself into the ground and invite a recurrence of her recent illness.

When supper was finished, Eric escorted Sookie up the stairs to her room.

'Thank you, Eric. You did not have to see me to my room.'

'It was my pleasure, Susannah. A welcome diversion to the long night ahead. I shall sit with Hunter until morning.'

Sookie looked at Eric closely, noting the tired lines around his eyes and mouth. He was still wearing the same clothes as he'd worn when they'd first set out in search of Hunter. His shirt was creased and his pants were still damp from the wet and cold. His hair was in an advanced state of disorder due to the marquess' constant habit of running his hands through it in an agitated manner.

'Eric, you are clearly tired. You must rest,' Sookie said, her voice laced with concern. She placed a gentle hand on his arm.

Eric looked down at her small hand, enjoying the comfort in her touch. 'Do you worry for me, Susannah?'

Sookie looked at Eric for a long moment before carefully responding. 'It would not do for you to exhaust yourself, my lord. Hadley and Hunter need you. With Remy away, they look to you for strength and guidance.'

'I did not ask for Hadley and Hunter,' said Eric, closing the distance between them, forcing Sookie's back to press against the door of her room. 'I asked if you worry for me.'

Sookie looked into Eric's eyes, unable to disguise her feelings. 'You know I do,' said Sookie quietly.

Eric lifted his hand to stroke Sookie's cheek. Sookie could not stop herself from turning into his touch. Eric continued his gentle exploration of her face, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb and slowly running it over her bottom lip, causing Sookie to sigh in bliss.

'My sweet Sookie. How beautiful you are,' Eric said as his lips slowly descended upon hers. The kiss was sweet, gentle, but no less potent. Sookie melted in his arms and held on to his broad shoulders for support.

After several moments, Eric broke the kiss and hugged Sookie tight against him, rubbing his cheek against her golden hair, inhaling her warm scent of lilacs and sunshine. No matter the hour, she always smelled of sunshine to him. He allowed himself to relax fully, letting the trials and worries of the day leave him.

Sookie burrowed deeper into Eric's chest. A deep feeling of contentment washed over her. In that moment, she knew that she could not leave Hardgrove Chase. Eric needed her, though he was not likely to admit it. He was a proud man, arrogant and high-handed, but he was not invincible. He needed her warmth, her comfort and her care. Perhaps he did not view them as equals now, but she felt in time, mayhap he would come to view her as his partner.

Sookie loved Eric and she knew that despite everything, he loved her too. How foolish had she been to believe that she could so easily walk away from him.

'Thank you, Susannah, for everything,' Eric whispered against her hair. 'I feel better knowing that you are here to help care for Hunter.'

Sookie looked up at Eric, surprised by his open gratitude. With a beatific smile, Sookie replied, 'You are most welcome, Eric.'

'I am sorry to have kept you. You are tired,' Eric said.

'I am fine, Eric. Do not worry for me. It is you who must rest,' Sookie countered.

'Sookie…'

'No, my lord,' said Sookie, disentangling herself from his arms. 'I will not argue with you. You are exhausted and you must rest. You will be no good to anyone if you make yourself ill. Promise me you will retire for the evening. I will not be able to rest easy knowing you are purposely endangering yourself. Please?' Sookie finished prettily.

Eric gave Sookie a slow smirk, warmed by her pretty pleading. He liked that she thought of him with concern. Eric stepped back from Sookie and bowed gallantly. 'As you wish, my lady. You are right, of course. Neither one of us can afford illness. So my sweet, Sookie, I bid you good night.'

Sookie smiled at Eric's words. 'Good night, my lord,' she called softly as she stepped into her room and quietly closed the door. Sookie pressed her back against the door and grinned widely.

_There is hope for us yet_, thought Sookie. Humming to herself as she dressed for bed, she snuggled heavily into her covers, letting sleep claim her.

The following morning she hurried to Hunter's room, finding the boy still asleep and Eric at his side. Sookie looked at the marquess and smiled.

'Good morning, my lord,' Sookie said, as colour rushed to her cheeks at the memory of their kiss the previous evening. Eric returned Sookie's smile and bid her good morning. He informed her of Hunter's condition. And they spent the morning playing nursemaid together.

As it turned out, Hunter's fight with the insidious infection lasted three full days. The doctor came frequently and his opinion was more guarded than his first assurances had been. It was obvious the feared blood poisoning had set in and the boy's chance of recovery was uncertain. Sookie was infuriated by the resignation she sensed in the physician and she laboured over Hunter with all her energy and skill. She stayed with him more than anyone else so that she was immediately available to soothe his restlessness and treat his raging fever as best she knew how.

Hadley, too, remained long hours at her son's bedside, defying any attempts to persuade her to rest. She became increasingly hollow-eyed and the cough that had continued to plague her became worse. When it became glaringly obvious that she was endangering her health, Eric forcibly removed her from the sickroom and placed her in the stern care of her devoted maid. Hadley protested, but she had grown so weak that even she had to accept the necessity of bed rest. The doctor shook his head over her folly, saying that she had indeed incurred a relapse of the pneumonia. He told her that if she wanted to recover quickly, she had best leave Hunter's nursing to those with stronger constitutions. Hadley had broken down in tears, but she promised to follow the doctor's orders. She sent Amelia almost hourly for a report on her son's progress, until Sookie with gentle firmness let her cousin know that she was only succeeding in irritating everyone involved in Hunter's care. Sookie pledged herself to let Hadley know the very moment something happened and Hadley had to be content with that.

The crisis point that the doctor had predicted earlier came at last. Hunter lay listless, no longer thrashing about as he had been doing while in the worst throes of the fever. Sookie recognised the signs and steeled herself for the battle ahead. Eric, who had insisted on taking his turn in the sickroom, had left but a short hour before she could expect Tara to relieve her.

'It is only you and I, Hunter. Fight hard for me, baby,' she said softly, her hand automatically seeking the boy's brow. It was burning to the touch. Sookie took a fresh wet cloth from out of the basin sitting beside the bed and began to bathe Hunter's hot skin. She pulled the bell rope for Mrs. Jenkins to bring more cold water when the basin of water she was using grew tepid.

'Stay with me, Hunter. You have to fight this. You have the heart of a cougar and the disposition of a mule. That's the Stackhouse in you and that's got to count for something,' Sookie said, tears pouring down her cheeks. She laid her head down on the side of the bed and held on to the unmoving boy's hand. 'You can't leave, Hunter. You hear me? Your momma needs you. You got to fight with all you have, boy!' Sookie prayed that her words had reached the boy. She could not bear to think of Hadley's devastation were Hunter not to pull through.

At some point in the night, Sookie had fallen asleep and it was hours later when she straightened from her post beside the bed. She looked at her small cousin and noticed his deep and even breathing. She placed her hand on his brow and felt the coolness there. The fever had at last broken. Even as she watched, the marked flush in his cheeks began to slowly fade.

Sookie looked heavenwards and breathe a sigh of relief. 'Oh, thank you,' she said, placing a kiss on Hunter's cheek. She stood from her chair and brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen out of its pin and smiled wearily as she looked down once more at Hunter's peaceful face.

The bedroom door opened and Tara quietly entered. 'How is he, Miss Sookie?' she asked softly.

Sookie turned to her friend and hugged her, tears of relief springing to her eyes. 'Oh, Tara! His fever broke sometime in the night. He's sleeping peacefully now,' said Sookie, exhaustion and emotion hoarsening her voice.

'Praise be to Jesus, Miss Sookie! I have been praying for that lil' rascal everyday. I won't mind his wild fits half as much now,' said Tara gruffly, fanning at her eyes.

'Only give Hunter time to recover and I warrant you shall change your tune, Tara! Hadley sent Amelia in some hours ago to extract a promise from me that I would wake her if there was any change. But I think the news can wait until the morning. My cousin needs as much sleep as she can get,' said Sookie, unable to stifle a wide yawn. She stretched her back until it popped.

'And so do you, Miss Sookie. You've been at it longer than any of us. Take yourself off to bed now. I can sit with the little one for the rest of the night,' said Tara, stroking Hunter's hair softly.

Sookie smiled her gratitude and nodded. She left the room, soundlessly closing the door behind her, and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. There was a shaft of light across the hallway carpet and Sookie paused.

The door to the marquess' sitting room stood half open. Sookie could see him sitting inside before the fire. He had obviously waited to hear news of his nephew and Sookie's heart was touched. She softly pushed the door wider and walked in, closing the door behind her.

Eric, staring at nothing, did not look around upon hearing the rustle of her gown. Sookie halted beside his chair, made uneasy by his continued silence. She touched his shoulder.

'Eric? Eric, Hunter's fever has broken at last. He will recover.'

Eric continued to stare into the fire as though he had not heard her words. Sookie searched his hard, immobile profile. 'Did you hear me, my lord? Hunter is on the mend.'

Eric looked up and Sookie noted the hard line of his mouth. She saw for the first time the letter clenched in his hand. His voice was strangely flat, totally devoid of emotion. 'Jenkins handed me the day's post at dinner. A friend with the army has written to me. The boy's father has been killed.'

Sookie was stunned. Her mind buckled at the enormity of his statement.

'B-but the _London Gazette_ said nothing. The name Remy Savoy was not listed. It cannot be for certain!'

Suddenly he towered over her. The letter fluttered to the carpet. Menace blazed in his blue eyes. 'Can you not find suitable words, ma'am? The lady who prides herself on her quick wit! Is there nothing that you can utter to bring a laugh to this horror?'

Sookie stared up at him, shocked. Her eyes dilated at the pallor and suppressed violence about his mouth. Then as abruptly as his anger had come upon him, his face altered and the furious light in his eyes went out.

'Forgive me, Susannah. I had no right to blaze up at you. But my brother!' His voice cracked suddenly. 'Sookie, my brother… my brother is dead…' His eyes squeezed shut against the tears that suddenly washed his ravaged face. A tortured sob tore from his chest as he fell to his knees before her, broken and destroyed.

Sookie was stunned by the intensity and suddenness of his grief. Eric wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her stomach. Instinctively, Sookie wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against the top of his head. Even on his knees, Eric was tall and imposing. It was a humbling experience having this strong and powerful man, vulnerable and in need of her care.

His fingers flexed through the stuff of her gown and he clung to her as though he were in dire need of an anchor. Sookie felt the shudders that shook him as he fought against his grief.

'Oh, Eric,' she whispered, feeling her own tears as they made their way down her cheeks. 'My poor darling. I am sorry,' she sobbed. 'I am so sorry…' She tightened her arms about his rigid frame, kissing his hair and whispering sweet endearments. They stayed as they were, unmoving, clasped in one another's embrace for what seemed an eternity of feeling.

'He's gone, Susannah. Remy is gone and I am all alone,' he cried into her dress.

'No, Eric, no! You are not alone,' she said fiercely. 'I am here, Eric,' she cried, hugging him tighter. 'I am here and I love you.'

At last, Sookie felt Eric's shudders subside. He straightened a bit, though his arms did not fall from around her. He lifted his head and her eyes met his pain-darkened gaze.

'My darling,' she murmured softly. She reached down to smooth a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. Slowly, she lowered her head and found his lips in a tender kiss which left Eric feeling completely shattered. Sookie was barely conscious of it when Eric pulled her down to him and gently laid her in front of the fire. With his lips he traced her closed eyes and the smooth skin of her temple, before he fastened again on her lips. The pressure of his mouth became compelling, desperate.

Sookie's lips parted under the force of his and she tasted the salty traces of his tears. An inarticulate sound broke from her. A tidal wave of long-damned need flooded her, its wake leaving her spent, with all her barriers down. She clung to Eric and arched hungrily into his kiss. He responded with fervent passion, palming her breast through the fabric of her stuff gown.

Shocks of emotion exploded through her nerves. And she gasped with the pleasure of his touch against her breast. She felt his hard frame against hers, his maddening exploring lips, his hands caressing her body to fire wherever they roamed.

Gasping for breath, Eric pulled away from Sookie and looked into her eyes, asking a silent question, pleading for her consent. Sookie could see the need in his eyes. In that moment his heart was completely open to her. The urge to comfort him, to take away all his pain was overwhelming. Sookie would do anything to see his sorrow gone, to mend his broken heart.

She loved him. She wanted him. And there was nowhere in the world she wanted to be other than in his arms. Gently, Sookie pushed Eric back and sat up. Eric looked at her, confusion lighting his eyes, afraid that she would say no. Afraid that she would leave him.

'Sookie?' Eric whispered, his voice strained and unsure.

Sookie raised her hands to the bun at the back of her head and pulled out the pins, letting her long braid fall down her back. She pulled the braid over her shoulder and began to unwind the thick hair. She ran her fingers through her golden locks until they fell in soft waves around her face and shoulders.

Eric watched, mesmerized by the sight of Sookie's honey-coloured mane tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. He reached across and stroked the silky strands between his fingers. _Magnificent_, he thought, as he once again brought her lips to his in a loving kiss.

Sookie was the first to pull back and he watched as she unbuttoned the sleeves of her gown with shaking hands.

'Will you help me, Eric?' she asked shyly, as she turned her back to him and pulled her hair over her shoulder, allowing Eric access to the buttons at the back of her dress. 'I cannot do this on my own.'

Eric marveled at the gift Sookie was bestowing upon him. Reverently, he placed his hands on her back and began to undo the buttons on her dress, his breath accelerating with every inch of skin that he exposed. His hand traced feather light over her smooth flesh and he leaned forward and pressed an open mouth kiss at the top of her spine, pushing her dress off of her shoulders. He felt Sookie shiver in her nervousness and he circled his arms around her shoulders to calm her.

'Relax, my love,' Eric said against her neck, stroking her arms to soothe her fears. Sookie leaned back into his arms and after a few moments began to relax. When she was calm again, Eric undid the remaining buttons on her gown and helped her to remove it.

Clothed only in her chemise and silk stockings, Eric stared at Sookie in wonder. She was an angel. An incandescent angel come to save him from his despair. She had completely bewitched him with nothing more than her guileless beauty and honest heart.

Eric's breath caught as the firelight illuminated the hardened peaks of Sookie's full breasts, the curve of her waist, the flair of her hips and the shadowy promise at the juncture of her thighs.

Eric pulled Sookie into his eager embrace and laid her back down on the thick Persian rug. Eric slowly lowered himself, careful not to crush her as he tenderly kissed her eyes and her nose, both her cheeks and finally her petal soft lips. Little by little he stoked the fire within her. The heat of the fire and the heat of her skin only served to enflame his passion for her. He felt consumed by his little angel and in turn sought to devour her.

Sookie moaned with pleasure and her arms wound themselves around Eric's neck and shoulders. Eric ground himself against her center and Sookie's kisses became ravenous. Eric grabbed her face as their mouths clashed with insatiable hunger. Their bodies pressed together so tightly it was as if they were magnetised. Eric could feel his blood rushing through his veins, his heart pounded with exquisite relief. It felt as though he'd been let out of captivity and was himself once more for the first time in years.

Sookie pulled at his hair and tugged, matching his passion. Eric glided his hands over Sookie's body, capturing her hardened nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly through the thin fabric of her chemise. Sookie mewled in pleasure and pulled harder on Eric's hair. He growled in response, grabbed the top of her chemise, ripping the offending material in half and exposing the wondrous bounty beneath.

'My god, you are beautiful,' Eric whispered, as he raked his gaze over her body. Her skin was glorious in the firelight. Smooth and petal soft, the colour of fresh cream and ripe peaches. Her breasts were high and well-formed, the hardened nipples trembling in anticipation of his touch. His lips parted seconds before sinking to capture the erect bud in his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the sensitive rose coloured peaks, tormenting Sookie as he sucked deeper.

Sookie rolled her head back, burrowing her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. Though Sookie enjoyed the feel of his fine lawn shirt rubbing against her bare flesh she yearned to feel his skin against hers. Sookie tugged at Eric's shirt and he raised himself slightly to remove the material from his body. Sookie's breath caught at the first touch of Eric's skin against hers. She reveled in the feel of the taut muscles on his back beneath her hands and the press of his chest against her soft breasts.

In the back of her mind, Sookie knew that perhaps this was not the wisest course of action. That maybe they should not be doing this. After all, Sookie was a maid and Eric was not her husband. But, God help her, she wanted him. She wanted him so urgently that she no longer cared about wrong and right. She only cared about tonight and this moment with him.

Eric sat back and looked down upon Sookie's form. Her hair was splayed around her like a nimbus. Her eyes were closed in lust and her cheeks and breasts were flushed the most delectable red. Her lips were pink and swollen. She looked positively wanton clothed in nothing but her hair and stockings. Eric licked his lips as his hands slid up her legs and unclasped the garters holding her stockings in place. He unrolled first one and then the other, leaving a wet trail as he planted soft open mouth kisses on her beautiful skin.

Eric wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered himself once more. Sookie found her breast imprisoned in the wet warmth of Eric's mouth. Each salacious stroke of his tongue threatened to ignite Sookie into flames. The feel of his hands as they moved down her body, followed by his mouth, his lips and tongue was maddening. He stopped at the juncture of her thighs and raised his eyes in silent question.

'Please, Eric, please…' Sookie pleaded, uncertain of what she was begging for but knowing that she would die if he did not continue.

Her legs spread involuntarily and her sex lay naked before him. Eric groaned deeply as he traced his fingers over the lips encasing her center. He stroked her golden curls and tentatively slipped a finger inside her quivering flesh. He found her wet, his finger drenched in her essence. He inhaled deeply. She smelled of lilacs and strawberries, sunshine and an English spring. He longed to taste her on his tongue. To feel her fall apart in his mouth.

'I want to taste you, my love,' Eric said against her entrance. Eric sensed her nervousness and hesitation, when her legs closed just a fraction. 'Please, my sweet Sookie,' he begged.

Sookie timidly spread her legs for him once again. At the first sweeping stroke of his tongue, Sookie nearly came undone.

'Oh…ohhhh, Jesus! Eric…' she moaned arching her back to press herself more firmly against his searching tongue. Eric increased the pressure and tempo as she bucked wildly against him. Her head moved from side to side, her hands gripped the rug beneath them. Eric moved his hands to her hips, holding her in place, which only served to madden Sookie further. Lost in her own pleasure, she was taken by surprise when Eric pushed one, then another finger inside her, testing her, preparing her for his coming invasion.

'My God, Sookie… you are so tight, my love…' he groaned against her pleasure pearl, taking it into his mouth and sucking harder. Sookie felt a pressure building in the pit of her stomach. The sensation was strange, new and exciting. She could feel something, growing and uncoiling inside her.

'Unhh…unhh… ahhh… sweet baby Jesus! Er-riiiiic!' Sookie let out a rapturous scream when her first orgasm came. Eric continued to lick and stroke her as her body convulsed in pleasure. When Sookie had settled, Eric raised himself from her center and at a snail's pace made his way along her body, dropping kisses on her heated flesh. He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss and Sookie moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue.

'You are magnificent in your pleasure, my sweet,' Eric whispered against her ear, his breath causing her to shiver. 'I have never seen anything so beautiful.'

In one sweeping movement, Eric lifted Sookie into his arms and carried her to his bed, depositing her gently onto the velvet coverlet. He quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothes and Sookie held out her arms to him, beckoning him to join her.

'Are you certain, my love?' he asked, his voice shaking with his need.

Sookie held his face in her hands and pressed an ardent kiss against his lips. Pulling away she held his gaze. 'Eric, I love you. Please…'

Needing no further permission, Eric made his way back down her body, caressing her breasts with his tongue. It seemed that the marquess could not get enough of Sookie's perfect breasts. Once again, she felt the pressure build inside her. Her breathing became laboured as Eric increased the force of his ministrations. His hand made its way down her body and found her pleasure pearl once more, causing Sookie to emit a keening moan. Eric captured her lips in his and whispered promises of delights to come.

When he felt she was ready for him, Eric positioned his hard length at her entrance. He could feel her flesh quivering around his tip and he longed to bury himself within its velvety depths.

Looking into her eyes, Eric felt an intense wave of lust and love for Sookie. He knew that there would never be another for him. The thought of loving a woman in that way terrified Eric, but he knew that after tonight, he would never let her go. Whatever the morning might bring, Susannah Stackhouse was his and no one would take her from him.

'Sookie, my love,' he whispered. 'You may experience pain, but I promise to be gentle. I do not wish to hurt you.'

Sookie touched Eric's cheek with her hand and Eric turned his face into her palm and kissed it.

'I know, my darling,' she said. 'I know that you would never hurt me. Please, Eric. Please don't make me wait. I cannot bear it,' she said emotionally.

Eric's lips crashed down upon hers and with forced control he gently guided himself inside her. It was torturous for him as the need to bury himself to the hilt was strong. But Eric was larger than most men and Sookie was a maid, untouched. He could not use her like a common trollop. He must temper his hunger for her, calm the beast raging to claim her. He pushed in slowly, agonizingly slow. He filled her inch by inch, stopping only when he had reached her maidenhead. He held himself steady, trying to give Sookie time to adjust to his size, but she grew impatient.

Anchoring her hands on his shoulder, Sookie pushed against Eric, forcing him to break through the barrier of her innocence. She gasped as she felt a stinging pain and buried her face in the crook of Eric's neck as tears rushed to her eyes. Eric stroked her hair and back in a soothing manner and continued to hold himself in place.

Gradually the pain faded and Sookie felt the urge to move against Eric once more. Eric set a slow pace, savouring the feel of her slick, warm walls surrounding him. He had never felt anything as wonderful as Sookie in his entire life. Eric had been with many women. He was considered a highly skilled and experienced lover. He had lain with some of the most beautiful courtesans in Europe, yet none had ever compared to the feel and taste of Sookie. Her very being seemed made just for him. Her body molded perfectly to his. As he moved within her, he felt the emptiness inside him, an emptiness he had never realised was there until that moment, fill up.

What started out slow and tender, grew crazed and fervent as their need for each other consumed them. Eric's thrust grew hard and feral. Sookie's back arched and instinctively she ground herself against him, trying desperately to sear her flesh into his.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm as they clashed and thrust against one another – each time brought them closer to the brink. Everything became brighter, wilder, louder, more unbridled. Eric gripped Sookie's hair and bit on her bottom lip as he grabbed her hips and thrust deeper, holding her at just the right angle, making her scream his name over and over. Her name fell from his lips like a litany as he worshipped her body with his.

Sookie had never been so out of control in all her life. She prided herself on her restraint, on her reason. But with a few well-placed thrusts, Eric had made her lose all sense of herself. They moaned and whimpered and gasped and tugged and bit and raked. As Sookie's orgasm hit her, she felt herself tightening, clamping down around every hard inch of him. Her whole being came apart and her teeth rattled from the force. A deep piercing noise escaped her lips. _I think I might just die_, Sookie thought to herself. The sensations and feelings crashing upon her were almost too impossible to bear. When Eric came, his whole body tensed. Sookie thought she'd never seen anything so wondrous: ecstasy, elation and wild abandonment.

Their voices mingled as they shouted each other's names over and over again.

They collapsed in a heap of spent bodies and laboured breaths. Eric's heart pounded erratically against Sookie's. She held him close, never wanting to let go, never wanting to lose this moment with him.

Eric shifted his weight and raised his head, looking deep into her eyes. He stroked her cheek tenderly, wiping away her tears.

'My love, I am sorry if I hurt you. I did not mean to cause you pain. Please, Sookie, please do not cry,' he entreated, hating himself for losing control and causing her injury.

Sookie shook her head and smiled. 'You did not hurt me, Eric. It's just… I'm just…'

'What, my love? What is it?' Eric asked.

'I'm happy,' she whispered. 'You have made me so happy.'

For the first time in her life, Sookie felt complete. She had always felt slightly adrift, not quite belonging in her world, especially after begging off her engagement to William Compton. Her impetuous acceptance of his proposal had been a stark testament to her desperate need for love and belonging. With Eric, she felt those feelings surge to the surface, but unlike with Bill, she knew that her feelings were wholeheartedly returned.

I love you, Eric,' she stated simply, as she leaned up and pressed her lips against his, hungry for his touch again.

'I love you, my sweet Sookie,' Eric said. 'In all my life, there has never been anyone but you,' he whispered fiercely against her lips, kissing her with equal fervor.

And as the heat of their passion built up and the flames from the fire died down, Sookie and Eric began again.

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><p><strong>Awwww... I gave ya'll some lemons. And not just a little spritz either, but the whole damn shebang! So, not quite sure where I'll take it from here as I actually hadn't intended for it to get this far! It's a Jane Austen crossover - I felt kinda dirty writing words like 'pleasure pearl' and 'nipples'! But what the hay, it's fanfiction and ultimately a SVM story so I just went with what felt right<strong>. **So, yeah...ummm... give me some feedback.**


	12. A Soldier's Duty

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter. I had a bout of writer's block that only now dissipated enough for me to finish it. **

**Massive thanks yous to one and all! Again, all of your kind words and support have been truly wonderful. I am so happy that you all enjoyed the lemons. I was a bit hesitant at first to write a sex scene, but then I realised that that would be silly. Jane Austen's novels are filled with sex. Every single one of her novels has sex in it. The sex may not be explicit, but it's definitely there, usually in the form of someone's ruin!  
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**That being said, our ideas of sex and courtship are actually leftovers from the puritanical Victorians. The Georgians had very relaxed attitudes toward sex. The Georgian era (1714-1830) and its sub-period the Regency (1811-1820) was noted for its debauchery, excess and pleasure-seeking. The Hanoverians were known for their scandalous sexual behaviour. They openly flaunted their mistresses and illegitimate children. Indeed, George IV (aka the Prince Regent or "Prinny") encouraged wild and loose moral behaviour which filtered down into the aristocracy and lower orders. Sex between unmarried persons was hardly unusual. **

**This is not to say that women didn't have social and moral restrictions placed upon them. Of course, if Sookie were to get pregnant or her liaison with Eric were to be discovered before they were married, then she would surely be ruined. But that doesn't mean that they would not have engaged in the the act. Eric is also a part of the London set. Prinny and his crowd were notorious for their womanizing, drinking and gambling. It would be odd for Eric not to indulge in amorous pursuits with Sookie or at least try to.  
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**During the Georgian period, aristocratic and upper class women, as well as lower-class women had a bit more freedom sexually. The polarisation of the public and private spheres, the stratification of the classes and sexes did not really begin until the 1820s. By the time Victoria had taken the throne in 1837, women had been placed at the center of domestic life and had been elevated to objects of moral and social purity. The Victorians, particularly the growing middle class, wanted to differentiate themselves from the "corrupt and debauched" Georgians. They did this by re-puritanising society and making sex shameful and dirty - only to be employed for procreation within marriage. But they too, indulged in fantastical sex acts - perhaps as a reaction to the restrictive social mores of the time.  
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**If you are interested in learning more about sex and the Georgians or Victorians, I have listed a few of the books I used for research on my profile. I would highly reccomend them. They are incredibly fascinating and totally debunk the idea that liberal ideas toward sex are a "modern" or twentieth century concept/construct. **

**OK, enough with the history lesson!**

**This chapter is quite heavy - very emotional. Eric is all over the place in this one, so you may get a headache from all the toing and froing, but I want to progress the story and grief is always a hard emotion to write realistically. It's also a touch melodramatic, but who doesn't love melodrama! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.**

**Read and review and let me know what you think!**_**  
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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12: A Soldier's Duty<strong>

In the dying light of the fire, Eric watched as Sookie slept peacefully in his arms. He noted the slow rise and fall of her chest and marveled at the flushed colour of her cheeks and breast. Her hair lay in riotous slendour across the linens of his bed like a shower of gold and his heart quickened when he pressed his lips against hers, still swollen and red from their earlier passion.

His actions last eve had been unpardonable. He had abused her vulnerability and kind heart. His only excuse was that he had been beside himself with grief and had been overcome by his need for her comfort and loving touch. He _needed _her. Eric, who had never needed anyone in his life, needed this small slip of girl in his arms. He needed her in the most primal of ways. She was necessary to him like water and air. Indeed, she was everything to him now. There had grown that night, something deep and fulfilling between himself and Sookie that he had not ever known with a woman. It was beautiful and fragile, like spider's silk, weaving itself round their hearts. It was a quality new and tender, and horribly subject to destruction if it was not protected and nurtured. Eric's arms involuntarily tightened around Sookie at the thought of losing her.

Despite the impropriety of his behaviour, Eric could not bring himself to regret what had transpired between them. Last night she had become his in every way that mattered between a man and woman. He loved her and knew that he could never, _nay_, would never allow anything to separate them.

The house was quiet and still, but Eric knew that his time with Sookie was limited. Though it pained him to be apart from her for even a short while, Eric would not allow vicious gossip to taint Sookie. It would not be long before the servants began to stir. Eric and Sookie had made some progress where the domestic staff was concerned. Before Hunter's accident, Sookie and Eric had managed to install a head house maid, two parlour maids, a chamber maid and a laundry maid. A new housekeeper had been engaged and would begin work in a fortnight. To assist Mrs. Jenkins in the kitchen, a head kitchen maid and a scullery maid had been hired. And a new footman, Thomas, would arrive at Hardgrove Chase in two days time. There were still more servants to come, but for the moment, most of the household needs were being met. Eric knew that he would have to carry Sookie back to her chambers unnoticed if he wished to avoid a scandal.

With great reluctance, Eric removed himself from his lover's embrace. He gazed down upon her and his heart squeezed at the thought that he could lay with her like this for the rest of his days. Tearing his eyes from her he began to dress. When he was suitably decent, he looked around the room and gathered Sookie's discarded gown, stockings and shoes. He decided to keep Sookie's chemise as a reminder of this night. He smirked to himself as he recalled ripping the garment from her luscious form. With a sigh, he exited the room and hurried to Sookie's bedchamber. He quietly entered and dropped the clothes on a nearby chair. He scanned the bedroom for Sookie's dressing gown. Finding the garment draped over a bench in front of her dressing table, he picked up the gown and walked back to his rooms. Gently, so as not to disturb his beloved, Eric wrapped the gown around Sookie, tying the belt tightly round her slender waist, before lifting her into his arms.

Sookie stirred from her sleep. 'Eric,' she whispered sleepily. Her head lolled against his shoulders and her eyelashes fluttered.

'Shhh, my love. Go back to sleep,' Eric soothed, dropping a kiss on her temple, not wishing to disturb her further. He watched as her eyes closed and she snuggled closer to his chest. He walked briskly down the hall, careful that no one was about to see him enter her room.

Eric pulled back the covers on Sookie's bed and laid her gently down. She whimpered at the loss of his warmth and stirred restlessly as she opened her eyes.

'Eric?' she said, uncertainly. 'Where am I? Where are you going?'

'We are in your room, Susannah. I'm sorry but I must go, my love,' Eric said, leaning down to place a chaste kiss upon her lips. He knew that were he to deepen the kiss, his resolve would break and he would join her in her bed. 'The servants will be attending to their duties soon. It would not be seemly for me to be seen leaving your room at this hour.'

'Oh,' Sookie said, looking crestfallen and hurt. 'I see. Of course, my lord. We would not want to cause a scandal,' she said stiffly. 'Well, my lord, do not worry. The events of last eve will not be spoken of. No one will know of our shameful conduct.'

'What? Susannah, no!' Eric said, sitting beside her on the bed as he gathered her up by her shoulders. 'Susannah, look at me,' Eric commanded when Sookie refused to meet his gaze. Slowly she turned her head and her watery eyes broke Eric's heart. Surely she could not believe that he regretted last night? That he would censure her?

'Last night was not shameful. It was miraculous,' Eric said wondrously. 'Susannah, you _saved _me. You pulled me from my grief and you gave yourself to me. You gifted me with your body and your heart.'

'Oh, Eric,' Sookie said, melting against him. Tears rushed to her eyes and slid down her cheeks. 'I thought you would not want me in the morning. And now… when you returned me here… I believed that… surely you cannot want me. I am no longer a maid. I cannot believe that you do not regret–'

'Never!' Eric said fiercely, holding Sookie to him. Looking into her eyes, Eric said passionately, 'I will always want you, Susannah. I am the reason you are no longer a maid. And I rejoice in it!' Sookie looked up at Eric with startled eyes, not quite believing his words.

'All that I am is yours, Susannah. You are everything to me now. You must never doubt me. Were it left to me, I would never leave your side. I would choose always to lay beside you. To wake with you in my arms until the last day I draw breath. Please, my love, do not cry.'

Sookie shook with her tears, her heart overjoyed by his words.

_He wants me_, she thought. _He loves me still. All is well. _

Sookie could not bear the thought that Eric would not love her in the cold, harsh light of morning. She knew it had been reckless to lay with him. Were the events of last night to be discovered she would be embroiled in a scandal so great it would ruin her and Jason. And yet, she could not seem to summon any regret. Eric was her heart, her life, and she would have done anything he had asked of her. She only wished to bring him joy.

'My darling. Oh how I love you so,' Sookie cried into his neck.

'I do not want your tears, my sweet Sookie,' Eric said, cradling her face in his hands as he wiped away her tears. 'I want only your smiles.'

Sookie looked at the pleading in his eyes, his wish to stop her pain. Here he was, mired down in his own grief over his brother's death and yet he still sought her happiness. How could she refuse him? Taking a breath, she gave Eric a watery smile.

'That is better,' he said, kissing her tears away. Faintly, he heard the first stirrings of activity belowstairs. They would not enter the family's private apartments for another hour or so, but Eric felt it would be best to err on the side of caution. 'I cannot stay, my love,' Eric said, moving to stand.

'Not yet,' Sookie said, grabbing Eric by the collar of his shirt. She pulled him to her one last time, kissing him deeply. Eric moaned softly against her lips as her small hand traveled down his chest. He crushed her against his chest and buried his hands in her hair. Their tongues dueled as they both fought to conquer the other. They were both breathless when they finally pulled apart.

'My God, I cannot get enough of you. I love you, Susannah Stackhouse and I will marry you. Soon,' Eric said, panting.

Sookie giggled against his chest and Eric smiled. Playfully, Sookie looked into Eric's eyes, biting her bottom lip before replying,' Ah, but I do not recall saying yes, my lord.'

Eric's eyes narrowed at Sookie's response before he realised that she was teasing him. 'I think my lady can be persuaded,' Eric said as he growled into her neck and placed wet kisses on her pulse point. Sookie shivered and her breath quickened. She moaned out in pleasure at the feel of his firm lips on her exposed flesh.

Summoning the last of his will, Eric forced himself to pull away. He placed his hands on Sookie's and loosened her grip on his shirt. 'I must go before I ravage you, my love. You are tired and we are sadly out of time.' He smirked at her and kissed her pouty lips quickly.

Sookie sighed, her forehead pressed against his. Finally she released him. Eric stood and straightened his shirt. 'Sleep, my love,' he said bending, kissing her forehead one last time. 'You will need your rest.' He looked sad and pensive before he continued. 'I am afraid that Hadley and the boy will need your strength in the days to come.' Sookie only nodded sadly at Eric and watched as he silently slipped from her room.

Sookie knew that Hadley would need to be told of Remy's death in the morning. She would be devastated and would need her cousin now more than ever. Uneasily, Sookie snuggled deeper under her covers, feeling suddenly cold and bereft without Eric there to hold her.

She cried softly into her pillow, allowing her grief to finally wash over her. She cried for Hadley, knowing her cousin's devastation over her husband's death would know no bounds. Sookie remembered her cousin's letters to her during their courtship. Hadley had declared herself passionately in love with the dashing army officer. Her joy with Remy only increased with the arrival of Hunter. They had only had a short time together. And now, at the tender age of six and twenty, her cousin was a widow.

Sookie cursed life's cruelty and fickleness. She was not sure if her cousin would survive this news. Her health was already so fragile. News of this magnitude could kill her. And where would that leave Hunter? The boy already felt lost without his father's presence. And now that his father had been taken from him, he would need his mother. Sookie prayed that Hunter would be spared that pain. _My poor, sweet boy_, she thought, before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

Hadley was informed of the contents of the marquess' letter that morning. She was at once grief-stricken and disbelieving of the validity of the news. She struck out against Eric, pummeling his chest with her tiny fists as he tried to comfort her.

'_NO! NO! NO!_' she repeated, over and over, shaking her head. 'There must be some mistake. This cannot be. He cannot be dead,' she kept saying, before bursting into a fresh stream of tears. Her hands shook as if with palsy.

'I do not believe you,' she screamed at Eric. 'He would not leave me! _He promised me!_ He promised me he would return to me. To Hunter!'

'Hadley,' Sookie said, walking to her cousin.

'No!' she shouted.

Eric stepped forward. 'Hadley, please. I am sorry, but it is true. Remy is–'

'Do not you dare! Do not say he is dead. It is not true. _You lie!_ Eric, you lie!' Hadley screamed, before collapsing onto the floor, pulling at her hair in her distress. Eric moved to pick her up, but Sookie shook her head and placed her hand on his arm.

She moved past him and gathered Hadley into her arms. Hadley fought against Sookie's hold, but her cousin would not allow her to escape. She rocked Hadley gently and stroked her hair as her cousin cried into her shoulder.

'No, Sookie, no. He cannot be gone. He cannot be gone…' she moaned, her body wracked with sobs. Sookie could only cry with her cousin as she continued to shake with her grief.

Eric looked on distraught. He felt like a failure. He did not know how to fix this. He did not know how to take away his sister-in-law's pain. How would he ever be able to tell Hunter? How could he be charged with the task of destroying his family? For Remy's death had surely destroyed them all.

Eric felt as though the world were collapsing in on him. His lungs tightened and he felt suffocated. He backed away from Sookie and Hadley and exited the room. Sookie called out his name, but he ignored her. He quickly strode down the stairs and out the front door. The early morning air was heavy and thick. He sucked in deep breaths, but still he could not breathe. He carried on walking until the house was no longer in sight. Soon, he was breaking into a run and finally stopped short beneath the great oak that marked south boundary line of the property. Looking up into the bright blue sky, Eric felt overwhelmed with rage and anger at the sheer cruelty of his family's loss. He screamed his anguish and cursed God.

'Why have you done this? Why have you taken my brother from me? From his wife and child?' he screamed, his voice sounding harsh and broken on the soft morning air. At the silence, Eric felt his ire increase. A violence he had never felt before consumed him and he clenched his fist and hit the rough trunk of the oak. Again and again he battered the tree. Harder and harder, his blind assault continued, ignoring the pain in his hand and arm. He felt his skin rip and tear but he did not stop his assault. All he knew was rage, hate. Over and over he hit the tree, his knuckles bloodied and torn. Eventually, his anger subsided and he was left only with his desolation and despair. On his knees, he let his grief wash over him and cried.

Sookie sat with Hadley for the remainder of the day. By luncheon time Hadley was white and listless and would not eat. She turned her face away when Sookie tried to talk with her. All the good progress she had made by resting and harbouring her strength seemed to waste away with astonishing speed. Sookie was beside herself with worry over her cousin's rapidly deteriorating condition. Hadley was a shadow of her former self. She wanted nothing and no one. She became mute and laid lethargically on her bed as she stared sightlessly out of her window. When Hadley refused dinner, Sookie decided to send for the doctor.

He was shocked by Hadley's condition. When they had left the bedroom and entered the drawing room, the doctor turned sharply and asked, 'What has occurred, Miss Stackhouse? It cannot be the boy, when he is recovering so nicely.'

'Lord Northman received a letter from a friend stating that Captain Savoy has been killed. His lordship thought it would be better to break the news to my cousin gently rather than wait, on the chance of her reading it in the _Gazette_ with no warning,' said Sookie.

The physician's eyes blazed. 'Could it not have waited a few weeks, Miss Stackhouse? Mrs. Savoy is of a frail constitution just now. Her worry over her son had already exhausted her. Now you can see what the news of her husband's death has done!'

Sookie stood mute before the doctor's tirade. Suddenly she was crying. Her nerves had withstood so much in the last several weeks – she could not endure anymore.

'Badly done, Miss Stackhouse. Badly done indeed,' said the doctor.

Blindly, Sookie turned to flee the room. She opened the door when she was caught by strong arms and instinctively she turned into them. Over her head Eric's voice was furious.

'Enough, sir! I will not have Miss Stackhouse so abused. It was my decision to inform my sister-in-law of my brother's death. The responsibility lies solely with me. Now leave this house before I run you through for your insolence,' said Eric, his voice low and deadly.

The doctor bowed stiffly. 'Very well, my lord! My apologies Miss Stackhouse. I shall return in a few days to see to both my patients. I bid you both good night.' He walked past Sookie and the marquess and left the house. Jenkins closed the door after him and turned his appalled gaze back to Miss Stackhouse, who was sobbing as though she were a baby. It shocked him to see that the cool imperturbability he had come to associate with Miss Stackhouse had been broken.

Jenkins left the hall and Eric pulled the drawing room door closed behind him. He held Sookie close and murmured incoherent words to her. His hard features softened as he calmed the beast raging inside him.

_How dare that sawbones yell at my love! _Eric seethed. 'Shhh, my dearest. All is well. I am here now,' Eric soothed, trailing his hands up and down her back in a soothing motion. After a few moments, Sookie finally calmed herself. She wrapped her arms around Eric's strong and solid form and relaxed into his embrace. Sookie tilted her head back and looked at Eric. She looked so broken, so vulnerable. Eric raised his hand, momentarily forgetting his injury. He winced painfully when he stroked her cheek.

'Eric?' Sookie asked turning her face, her eyes widened at the sight of Eric's mangled and bloodied hand. 'Dear God, your hand! What has occurred? How come you to be this way?' she asked, shock and concern etched on her face.

The pain in Eric's hand was excruciating, but it was a welcome reprieve from his grief. He stepped back from Sookie, trying to conceal his wound. 'Tis nothing, my love. A scratch,' Eric said dismissively.

'That is not _nothing_, Eric,' she said, holding his hand in hers. She kissed his palm tenderly before standing up. She moved quickly to the bell rope in the corner and rang for Jenkins.

Jenkins entered the drawing room. 'Miss Susannah?'

'Jenkins, his lordship has done himself an injury. Pray, ask Mrs. Jenkins for a bowl of warm water, fresh linens and bandages. Oh, and perhaps some calendula and St. John's Wort.' Jenkins bowed and exited the drawing room.

'Susannah,' Eric said. 'Really, you are making much out of nothing. My hand is fine.'

'You hush, now,' said Sookie, pulling Eric to one of the armchairs facing the fire. She made him sit down as Mrs. Jenkins and the new kitchen maid entered the drawing room. They placed the bowl of water and cloths on the side table next to the chair along with the requested herbs.

'Will you or his lordship be needing anything else, Miss Susannah?' asked Mrs. Jenkins.

'No, Mrs. Jenkins. Thank you. That will be all,' said Sookie, turning back to Eric.

Mrs. Jenkins smiled to herself as she closed the door behind her. Sookie sat in the chair opposite Eric, pulling it closer to his. She grabbed the soft cotton linen and dipped it into the bowl of warm water. Gingerly, she cleaned his hand, careful to limit the discomfort she caused him. Eric watched as Sookie's soft and capable hands rubbed the St. John's Wort oil over his cracked knuckles. She gently pressed calendula into the cuts and wrapped a clean bandage around the wound.

'What were you thinking, Eric?' Sookie scolded. 'Why would you hurt your hand so? You could have broken it. Then where would you be, my lord...'

'Susannah, please,' Eric said. Sookie stopped her tirade and looked up from her toils. 'Please, my love, I must speak with you.'

'Why do you look so serious, Eric? What is it you wish to say,' Sookie said.

'Susannah, I… I do not know how to say this,' Eric said, looking pained. 'I have come to a decision about… about us and our future.'

'Our future?' Sookie asked. Her heart began to beat wildly at his words. _Has he had a change of heart? Does he no longer wish to marry me? _'What mean you by our future, Eric?'

'I wish… I wish us to be married.'

Sookie smiled. 'Yes, you have made your intentions very clear on that score,' Sookie said, relief lacing her voice.

'No, Susannah, you do not understand. I wish for us to be married as soon as possible. Next week in fact. I shall write to my solicitor tomorrow and instruct him to procure a special license. This will allow us to marry immediately. We will not have to wait for the banns to be posted. We can marry here, at the chapel in the village.'

'But Eric, we cannot marry. Not now.'

'What do you mean? Susannah, please do not toy with me,' Eric said harshly. 'You have consented to be my wife.'

'I do not toy with you, my lord. But we cannot possibly marry now. You have just lost your brother. My cousin, her husband. We will soon be plunged into deep mourning. T'would be scandalous to marry now. Surely, we must wait until the mourning period has ended?'

'Susannah–'

'No, Eric. I will marry you, of course, I will. But we must observe proper etiquette. Despite our _unusual_ beginnings, I will not have the circumstances of our marriage called into question. A rushed marriage would seem–'

'I have decided to buy a commission in the army, Susannah,' Eric said, quietly.

The colour drained from Sookie's face. 'But you cannot!' she screamed, moving away from Eric.

Eric slowly straightened, his eyes never leaving her face. 'It is decided, Susannah. And I wish us to be married before I go. I want my last memory before I leave for the continent to be of our wedding night. I want to leave with the hope that perhaps we made a child that night.'

Sookie stood motionless, staring at Eric in disbelief.

'And, should anything happen, I wish for you to be provided for. I want to protect you. As my wife, you will never want for anything.'

Sookie looked at Eric as though he had mortally wounded her. His words a betrayal of their love. 'But how can you join the army, when you know what such a step must mean? Surely you must know what such a step must mean to me?' asked Sookie.

'Nonetheless, that is the decision I have made,' said Eric inexorably.

Sookie flushed and her eyes flashed with anger. 'You are selfish and hard, my lord! I find you contemptible. How dare you turn your back on those who love you and depend upon you!' In her fury she slapped him full across the face.

Eric caught her wrist. When she struggled against him, his fingers tightened painfully about her slender bones. There was a red imprint from her hand rising on his lean cheek, but he did not seem to notice the sting. He looked down at Sookie with barely leashed anger.

'What would you have me do, Susannah? Stay here and hide with my tail between my legs like some coward. Is that what you would have me do?'

'Yes!' Sookie shouted. 'Yes, for you will likely be killed, you fool!' she exclaimed. Her throat tightened at the thought. She turned her head quickly aside as the tears flowed freely down her pale cheeks.

The intentness of Eric's voice sharpened. 'Would that be such a bad thing?'

'_How dare you? _ How dare you say that to me! Eric,' Sookie said, her voice strangled by her emotions. 'You are breaking my heart.'

'Susannah, do you not see that I must do this.'

'Why? Why must you do this, Eric?'

Eric dropped Sookie's hand and turned from her. He stared into the fire before speaking. 'Because I must! From an early age, Susannah, I have been petted and indulged. Nothing has ever been expected of me. My future has always been set. I should take up the marquessate and live a life of luxury and indulgence. Remy has always been the brave one, the honourable one. The one who was willing to die for king and country.'

Eric paused, turning to face Sookie. His eyes were dark and tortured eyes. 'I have never sought glory, Susannah. Indeed, I have avoided my duty to my title in order to pursue my own selfish pleasures. Seeking the friendship of the Prince Regent and running with the fast set. I suddenly find that inadequate for myself. I now realise how frivolous my life has been. Remy had an adequate independence which was enhanced by his inheriting of Hardgrove Chase, but still he chose to enter the army because he believed in what England is fighting for. Remy _died_ so that I might have the privilege of being selfish.'

'Oh, my darling,' Sookie said, stepping closer to Eric and taking his face in her small hands. 'Remy was a soldier and soldiers die, Eric. That is the risk of their chosen occupation. Surely you do yourself and your brother no favours by courting your own death. It would leave Hadley and Hunter alone. So _very_ alone. Where is the honour in that?'

'Where is the honour in staying? I must do this, Susannah. I must honour my brother's memory. I must prove that his death was not in vain.'

Sookie could not believe what she was hearing. _How had it come to this? How had Eric's grief spiraled so out of control that he thought his own death would avenge his brother's?_

'Eric, there is no honour in senseless death. You wish to honour your brother, to honour his memory? Then be the man he always believed you to be. Take care of his family and his property. Be a surrogate father to the boy. That is how you honour Remy. Or is it more important for you to follow some quixotic notion of avenging your brother's death and possibly withholding from Hunter the support he needs by being killed yourself? '

Eric shook his head. 'Susannah, you do not understand. I must–'

'No! _No!_' Sookie screamed, pummeling Eric's chest in a scene closely resembling Hadley's earlier outburst. 'No, Eric, _you_ must understand. _I love you. _I cannot lose you. You are my heart. If you die, _I die_. I have lost so many people in my life. I _cannot_ lose you too. Do you not see? Do you not understand? This is not about you alone. You wish me to be your wife? Your life's mate? Then you _must_ think of me. I could not bear it… I could not live… I cannot_ be_ without you!' Sookie cried hysterically into Eric's chest. Sobs of anguish ripped through her as she clung to him desperately.

_What am I doing? _Eric thought to himself. _How can I even contemplate leaving my Sookie so? Tis lunacy. _

'Dear heart. My dear heart. I am sorry,' Eric whispered into her hair. 'I am so sorry,' he said kissing her, his own tears mingling with hers. 'It was a moment of madness. I swear it my love. I do not know what possessed me. I do not know why I said those things. Please, my love, my sweet Sookie. Please do not cry. I shan't ever leave you.'

'You will not join the army?' Sookie asked, hiccupping slightly. 'You will stay? You will stay with me?'

'I could never leave you,' Eric proclaimed, kissing her wet cheeks. 'It was madness to even think I could. I just feel so helpless, Susannah. I thought if I joined the army, then perhaps I could make some sense of this horror. I have no purpose. I do not know how to be my brother,' said Eric, whispering that last bit.

The hopelessness and despair in Eric's voice broke something deep inside Sookie. How would she ever be able to convince Eric of his worth? _Does he not see that he is needed now more than ever?_

'You must think of the boy, Eric. Hunter is fatherless. He will need someone who can guide him and act as his steadfast confidante. He will have a tutor, but he can hardly be expected to fill that role. I know of no one else who can so well accomplish that than his beloved uncle. Is that not purpose enough?'

'You are right, my love. The boy must be of primary importance now.'

'Despite what you may think, my lord, you are a good man. You are strong and honourable. You are exactly the man your brother would have chosen to care for his family.'

'I want to make him proud. I do not want to let him down. Hadley.'

'You will not. Remy loved you, Eric. Hadley told me how deeply Remy admired you. He thought you the finest of men.'

'You are very tender-hearted, my sweet Sookie.'

'No, I am not tender-hearted. I only speak the truth. I could not love a man who lacked honour. And I love you, Eric.'

Eric leaned down and took claimed Sookie's lips in a fervent kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers and let out a deep breath. 'I love you, my sweet Sookie,' Eric said.

The fire blazed hot in the grate and Eric's face was illuminated in the bright light. The lines of his face were harsh and hard. He looked pained and pale.

'What is it, my darling?'

Eric turned to face Sookie, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 'Hunter. How will I ever tell the boy that his father is dead?'

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><p><em><strong>Coming up: A face from the past. Miss Price makes her presence known and maybe Jason will return... review!<strong>_


	13. A Bleeding Heart

**A/N: Hi all! First off, I am _sooooo_ sorry for leaving you hanging for so long. Real life, blah blah blah...**

**I also want to say thank you to everyone again for all your support and kind words. We're over 200 reviews which is absolutely brilliant and I love them all! You guys are amazing and I am also incredibly happy with the response I recieved for my new story _The Marriage Mart_. **

**This chapter is a short one. I just needed to get it out so I could push the plot along. Its mostly filler. Things will be hotting up in the next chapter - definitely some drama and excitement happening from a surprising quarter and I think Jason will be making a re-appearance!**

**I also want to pimp my story _The Marriage Mart_. Also a Regency fiction, less angsty, more light-hearted. So if you haven't checked it oput yet, please do. I will hopefully be posting chapter 2 next week!  
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><p><strong>I also thought I should add a note about mourning and mourning customs in the Georgian era. Mourning customs can be terribly confusing for a modern reader as we no longer follow such strict rules of dress and conduct.<strong>

**As with most things, the Georgians were fairly relaxed about following "mourning customs". ****Mourning customs in the Regency Era were less rigid than in Victorian England.** **Mourning did not become ritualised until the Victorian era. This was heavily influenced Queen Victoria's own mourning period for Prince Albert which lasted her whole life. A lot of what we see in period films on mourning customs are actually conventions which became codified in the Victorian period.**

**During the Georgian period, there was no set rule book on mourning. There was a general guideline that people (i.e. royals, aristocracy, landed gentry and some in the middle class) observed, but it was not set in stone. Mourning was **_**very**_** expensive and only the very wealthy or important followed the rules to the letter and even then there was some flexibility. Depending on the relationship the mourner had to the deceased, there were different time constraints for mourning - the longest period being placed on the spouse. **

**Mourning consisted of three distinct periods: ****Heavy or deep mourning, half mourning, and light or second mourning. ****Only the wealthy could afford to purchase custom-made mourning clothes. The middle class or people of more moderate means made do with what they had, or purchased ready-made clothes. ****Women shouldered most of the burden.**

**During deep mourning, widows wore all black, often called "widow's weeds" for a year and no jewelry, except that made of jet or onyx and wore "moderate headgear". The material of the dresses were often made of matte materials like crepe or black bombazine silk, which did not reflect light. According to the ****19th-century "style" periodical **_**Repository of Arts **_**in 1809,****hems were at least "3 inches deep". **

**Half mourning was seen as a transition period where the mourner could slowly re-enter society. For a widow she would normally adjust her wardrobe to include white dresses and black and white mixed (i.e. black dress with a white lace collar). The most notable half mourning dress was an **_**Ackermann's**_** fashion plate dated 1819 that was all white. Other family members, excluding the widow, could wear colours which were used in regular dress but were seen as more subdued, like grays, mauves, lilacs and lavendar. Scarlett (red) has also been mentioned as an acceptable half-mourning colour, but I have never seen a fashion plate to confirm this. Again, dresses had to be of modest cut and of a matte material, but the hems could be shortened.**

**Because of Beau Brummel, ****men tended to wear black or somber clothes as a matter of course****, so very little altered in their attire. During deep mourning ****men wore black jackets, black cravats, and black armbands. They carried black bordered handkerchiefs and placed a black ornament on their hats.** **Children also wore somber clothes edged in black**.

**The mourner would withdraw from society for the designated mourning period. Again, these were **_**not **_**set in stone and the length of time for mourning was often left to the mourner's discretion. However, it would have raised quite a few eyebrows if a widow did not mourn her husband for at least a year.**

**Here is a rough outline for deep mourning:**

**One year for a spouse  
>6 months for parents or parents-in-law<br>6 - 3 months for a sister or brother, uncle or aunt (the time is unclear, some sources say 6 months, some say 3 – I think this is one of those discretion things!)  
>6 weeks for a sister or brother-in-law<br>3 weeks for the spouse of an uncle or aunt  
>2 weeks for a first cousin<br>1 week for a second cousin or stepmother's sibling**

**Oddly enough, I wasn't able to find any information on mourning periods for the death of a child. Funny, right?**

**So, yeah, I hope that clears up any confusion on mourning! Or maybe I just added to the confusion? **

**Anyway, if you'd like to learn more, I have listed my sources on my profile. In 2009, I also attended a wonderful exhibition on death, mourning, and funerary ornaments in England at the Wellcome Trust in London. The exhibition traced the customs, conventions and beliefs around death and all that entails from the medieval period through to the end of the First World War. The exhibition talked a lot about what I have noted in my mini history lesson. **

**I have also listed links to **_**Ackermann's **_**mourning dress fashion plates so you can get a visual of the types of gowns, jewelry and headgear that Georgian women wore.**

**Enjoy and R&R!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belongs to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: A Bleeding Heart<strong>

Over the long days the marquess thoughtfully studied his nephew. The boy was hollow-eyed and obviously bored to death by his forced inactivity. He would not otherwise dog a dull uncle's heels so attentively. It was certainly an appropriate time to begin Hunter's formal education. The marquess posted a reminder to his London solicitor that he had requested screenings of possible tutors. He hoped that a youngish scholar would be found who could understand a seven-year-old boy's exuberance and restlessness and yet could curb his wilder tendencies.

As for Eric's own grief over his brother's death, he never again revealed his feelings in quite so naked a fashion as he had with Sookie that day in the drawing room. With Hadley he felt obligated to place himself as the proverbial shoulder to lean on. The stress was evident in his drawn mouth, however. His expression was grimmer, his eyes darker.

No more was said on his joining the army. Though he still felt the need to avenge his brother and felt the army was his only true recourse. But then he would remember Sookie's words, the anguish in her voice, the fear and worry that marked her beautiful face and all the fight would leave him.

Sookie was the only bright spot in an otherwise dark and dismal landscape. Sookie was his comfort and joy. She always seemed to know how to pull him from his darker thoughts. Her very presence was a soothing balm on his torn and ragged soul. He wanted and needed her – _craved _her immensely. But he took great pains to temper his need for her, never allowing himself to indulge in the bounty of her form as he did the night he learned of his brother's death. In the weeks since his brother's death, Eric had limited the time he spent with Sookie, ensuring that their encounters was all that was right and proper, especially now that the house was teeming with newly appointed servants. Eric did not want to compromise Sookie further, and though he would gladly marry her at a moment's notice, he knew that he must wait until the end of the mourning period. As Remy's brother, he would be required to be in mourning for six months, though he knew he would feel the pain of Remy's loss all his life. As Hadley's cousin, Sookie was not required to go into mourning, but Eric was certain that she would out of courtesy to the family.

Eric sighed heavily as he stood at the bottom of the staircase, his expression brooding as he watched Sookie enter the hall from the kitchen.

'Are you off for a ride, my lord?' Sookie asked, smiling gently at Eric.

'Yes. I thought I'd ride over to Winthrop's farm and check on the progress of the lambing.'

Sookie nodded. 'Good. I think the exercise and fresh air will do much to clear your head.'

'Yes, I think you may be right. I shall be back in time for luncheon. Please inform Jenkins.' With that, Eric turned on his heel, his riding boots rapping hard on the marble tiles as he left the hall.

Sookie watched him leave with a sad smile. A heavy pallor hung over Hardgrove Chase. Sookie often felt overwhelmed by the intense emotions of Eric and Hadley. Sookie thought of her poor cousin. The news of Remy's death has taken its toll on Hadley. The only person Hadley was interested in seeing was her son and Hunter could hardly stand to be around his mother. It was agreed between Hadley and Eric that they should put off telling Hunter until Remy's death had been confirmed by the War Office. Even though Hadley had tried to hide her grief when Hunter was with her, he was intelligent enough to sense it and question her about why she was so sad. His solicitation nearly set Hadley off again and it was all she could do to underplay her emotions.

'I am a little anxious about Papa is all,' she said trying to smile. 'But I will get over it.'

Still weakened from his ordeal, Hunter would emerge from his mother's chambers both troubled and frightened. He knew that something was terribly wrong but no one had told him what it was. Strangely enough, no one considered Hunter's fine perceptions. Hadley had been thought to be strong enough to handle the news of her husband's probable death, but she and Eric had agreed that until confirmation came it would be best to shelter Hunter from the interim suspense.

But Hunter noticed the long faces of Tara and his mother's maid. He knew that Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins and the kitchen staff abruptly stopped whispering whenever he came upon them unexpectedly. He tried to wriggle information out of Dawson, but he would only shake his head. When even the hardened gardener, Angus, vouchsafed him a gruff word of friendliness, Hunter's dread was complete. His nightmares worsened and the persistent sense of aloneness overwhelmed him in its intensity.

Hunter fled his loneliness the only way he knew how. He insisted upon spending considerable time with Sookie. In the weeks following his accident and consequent illness, Hunter had grown to love his cousin. He found her bluntness and no-nonsense attitude refreshing. She also told him the most amusing stories about America. They always contained weird animals, ghosts and other nasties, like 'gators' and 'panthers' that fascinated Hunter to no end. He seemed to appreciate that she spoke to him calmly as though he were an adult. When he was not with Sookie, Hunter shadowed his uncle, who had begun to set in motion the refurbishment of the estate and was in the process of hiring a new bailiff. Hunter spent hours sitting quietly in the study while Eric interviewed various applicants or explained to him the intricacies of keeping up an estate like Hardgrove Chase.

Eric's obvious withdrawal into himself due to his grief over his brother did not affect his attitude toward his nephew. The boy reminded him so much of a forlorn waif, drifting hither and thither with a perpetual anxiety deep in the depths of his blue eyes. Hunter obviously needed attention and though Sookie and Tara did their best with him, and his mother gave him as much as she seemed able to, Hunter still needed something more. He apparently had that need satisfied through the marquess. Eric was conscientious in giving of himself and his time to the boy. He made a point of going up every evening to visit with Hunter at bedtime. The boy appeared unnaturally grateful to him for the treat and was always reluctant to let him go.

One evening Eric discovered Hunter curled tensely on the window seat, staring out at the darkened sky. Hunter did not look around at his uncle's greeting. Abruptly he said, 'Papa is dead, isn't he?'

For several seconds Eric stood silent. He said slowly, quietly, 'Yes, Hunter. I believe that he is.'

The boy's shoulders slumped and his body visibly relaxed. He sighed deeply. When he turned his head there were tears in his eyes. 'Thank you, Uncle,' he said simply.

With a flash Eric understood his nephew's sudden bewildering dependence. Hadley and he had done the boy a gross disservice. Hunter had sensed his father's death all along and he had suffered from their misguided attempt to protect him.

'Dear God,' murmured Eric. He gathered his nephew up against him. The boy's thin arms wound tight around his neck.

Hunter's voice came muffled from against Eric's shoulder. 'I knew Papa wasn't coming back. I knew it when I fell out of the tree. But no one would tell me! Everyone acted as though everything was all right.' There was grief and rage in the boy's voice. He started to cry in great gulping sobs.

Eric tightened his arms about him and smoothed his unruly hair. 'Forgive me, dear boy,' he said, his voice roughened. Eric vowed to himself that he would not let the boy down again.

It was a long time before the marquess emerged from the nursery. His shoulders set in renewed determination.

Though Eric felt in his heart that his friend's information was correct, the marquess did not accept the letter without making enquiries of his own with friends in positions who might be expected to be able to verify the harsh truth. A few weeks later the official notice of Captain Remy Savoy's death was printed in the _London Gazette_ and a letter followed from the War Office.

When the lists came out, Sookie thought that Eric showed exquisite consideration for Hunter's feelings and her own sense of love and loss swelled with this reminder of all that she had loss in her relatively young life. She shed tears in the privacy of her bedroom, so as not to distress Eric or her cousins, and began to appear a bit thinner and paler than before, but no one except Tara noticed.

Though Tara would never dream of betraying her mistress's confidence, she frowned and again tried to influence Sookie not to exert herself so much in the running of Hardgrove Chase. But Sookie argued that someone had to respond to the condolence calls and the cards received and Hadley was totally unequal to the task. She rarely left her bedroom and on the few occasions that she did so, it was only at Hunter's pleading. At times the duties seemed overwhelming and Sookie felt incredible anger toward her cousin. But she only had to look at Hadley's wan, saddened face to feel ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts. Hadley had lost her husband. It would take time to heal the wound, mayhap, it would never heal. Sookie knew that were she to lose Eric, her devastation would be endless. His grief weighed heavily upon her. After their emotional exchange in the drawing room, Eric spoke no more of leaving Hardgrove Chase to join the army, though Sookie could still see the conflict in his eyes. She knew that he warred with himself over his need for vengeance and his duty to his family. Eric had also begun to distance himself, both emotionally and physically, from Sookie in the weeks following his brother's death. Sookie was certain he did not mean to and she reasoned with herself that his behaviour was normal for someone suffering a great loss. But she felt his inadvertent rejection keenly upon her bruised heart and it only served to compound her woes.

Sookie received the morning's letter from Jason and her low spirits immediately lightened. She was delighted to learn that the fight to regain possession of the _Adele_ and its cargo was all but won. Calvin Norris was pushing forward the inquiry into the fate of the missing American sailors, and he seemed confident that the men would shortly be reunited with their countrymen. Jason, obviously satisfied with how events were transpiring, promised to join her at Hardgrove Chase very soon. Unbeknownst to Sookie, Tara had mentioned her misstress's flagging spirits in her last letter to Jason and had entreated him to come to them soon. Jason, distressed at the news of his sister's unhappiness, planned on joining them at Hardgrove Chase by month's end.

Staring at Jason's last sentence, Sookie had mixed feelings. She wanted so much to be reunited with her brother, but Jason knew her too well. She would not be able to disguise her feelings from him. She doubted that he would accept that Remy's death and the responsibilities of Hardgrove Chase were solely to blame for her emotional state. Jason's inevitable questions would eventually unearth her feelings for the Marquess of Huntley. Sookie was not sure if she was ready for Jason to know of the relationship between her and Eric. Things between them were strained at best, and as he was currently in a period of mourning, all talk of marriage and the future had been placed on hold.

Sookie was not given much time for reflection on this new dilemma as she sat with Eric in the study. At his insistence, she began interviewing the last of the household servants.

'I can screen these individuals but as far as discerning their true worth, I must give that over to someone who is familiar with the running of a household,' said Eric.

'And Hadley, of course, is far too preoccupied to turn her mind to it,' said Sookie with a tired nod.

Eric gave her a sharp glance. He looked at her closely and noted for the first time that the fragile skin under her eyes appeared bruised, her face pale and she had grown thin. In the two months since his brother's passing, Eric had purposely kept his distance from Sookie, choosing instead, to busy himself with the care of his nephew and the needs of the estate. He did not want to burden her with his sadness. He knew how perceptive she was to the needs of others and he did not want to distress her with his unhappiness. He also struggled constantly with his craving to possess her at every opportunity. Eric was determined to keep his promise. He would not lay with her again until the night of their wedding. Separating himself from her physically was painful but necessary.

But now, looking at her, Eric cursed himself for his selfishness. He had used her ill and now she was suffering for it.

His voice softening, he said, 'It is not proper that the burden of Hardgrove Chase should fall to you, my love. I cannot bear to see you bowed so low.'

Tears pricked at Sookie's eyes. This was the warmest he had been with her for weeks and her heart longed for his embrace. Eric sensing her need, pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

'I am sorry, my love. I have been a deuced fool!' Eric declared, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. 'You are so strong, my love, so capable. I often forget that even you can break.'

Sookie cried harder into Eric's chest, allowing him to shoulder some of her burden. After a few moments, she spoke, 'It is nothing, Eric, really it is not. I would be happy to take the task on. You and Hadley have so much to worry about. It is the least I can do.'

'I love you, dearest Susannah. Even when you show me the reddest nose I have ever seen.'

Sookie smiled into Eric's shoulder and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent. She sniffed softly before finally pulling away.

'Thank you, Eric. Of course I will see to the rest of the household. The rest of the candidates look very promising and I hope to have everyone settled in their post within the fortnight. Indeed, it will certainly be a relief to have a full staff in place.'

After a moment's silence, Sookie took a deep breath. 'I have missed you,' Sookie whispered.

Eric's arms tightened around Sookie's slight form and his heart squeezed. 'I did not want to overwhelm you. You have already taken on so much, Susannah. I did not want to add my grief to your troubles.'

Sookie looked up at Eric, some of the fire returning to her eyes. 'I love you, you stubborn fool. Your troubles are my troubles. I want to be here for you. For all of you, but I can not if you push me away. You are right, my lord. I am strong, but my heart can break and when hold yourself from me... Eric, you break my heart...'

'My love, my sweet Sookie. I am sorry. I have been foolish. In my need to protect you, I have caused you hurt. But Susannahm you must know, you are my angel, my love. And I promise you, when we are recovered… when the mourning period has ended, I shall make you my wife.'

Sookie looked at Eric with tears in her eyes. Her hear felt near to bursting with all the love she bore him. 'I know, my darling. I look forward to that day.'

Eric leaned down and kissed her gently, happy to have her in his arms. The two shared another moment of solace, relief marking their forms. Over the next weeks, an easiness returned between them, a knowledge that no matter how fierce the storm, they would always have the other to cling too.

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><p><strong><em>Please Review!<em>**


	14. A Beauty Scorned

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Don't worry, I haven't abandoned this story. Real life interfered... blah... blah... blah...**

**An update of _The Marriage Mart _will also be up soon, so please don't despair!**

**Not too much to say about this chapter. It was fun writing and will hopefully whet your appetites for some major drama (bites nails)...  
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**So, I hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think! Once again, major thank yous to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, and favourited this story. You are all wonderful, magical, beautiful beings and I write these stories for you. Your positive words inspire me and make me happy!**

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><p><strong><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or True Blood nor am I affiliated with HBO in anyway. SVM and True Blood belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and the good people at HBO. I am only using these characters for the purpose of this story.<strong>_**

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><p><strong>Chapter 14: A Beauty Scorned<strong>

A visitor arrived in the neighbourhood. There was a buzz of speculation and comfortable anticipation, for the guest at Rookery House was a young naval officer. He was said to be the commander of a sloop-of-war, which seemed a thoroughly romantic occupation in the minds of the young ladies and unquestionably exciting to the young gentlemen who had visions of derring-do on the high seas. He was also said to be well-favoured in face and person and, what was most important, unattached. Those with marriageable young daughters geared up for a round of entertainments in honour of the new arrival.

Captain Barnard Wexler, not long since severely reprimanded and temporarily relieved of his duties for seizing an American vessel under false charges, was extremely gratified by the flattery and honeyed words that he was served. When he had sought out an old acquaintance from Eton, Henry Price, it had been only with the thought of burying himself somewhere where he was not known for the period of his disgrace. He had not actually anticipated any enjoyment from his forced exile even though his host went out of his way to make him welcome.

Mr. Price was known to be somewhat indulgent, especially in regards to his sister Clara Elizabeth. He was extremely loyal, some would hazard, to a fault. His relationships with people reflected an intensity and fierce commitment. He remembered Barnard Wexler from the old public school and though they were not particularly close, or indeed, at all friendly, he could not help but graciously offer his hospitality to this obviously successful naval officer. If he wondered at all at the fact that Barnard Wexler had never before shown him much notice or was bothered at the strangeness of the officer's sudden appearance on his doorstep, he dismissed it with the vague reflection that he was not one himself for the intricate formalities that society expected of one. Therefore, Mr. Price accepted both Wexler's unexpected presence and his glib explanation of being given holiday leave and wishing to spend it renewing his acquaintance with an old friend. Mr. Price made an extraordinary effort to introduce his guest into neighbourhood society. Once that task was successfully accomplished, he happily returned to his usual routine and left his guest in the capable hands of his neighbours.

Captain Wexler was hardly disappointed by Mr. Price's eventual desertion. He regarded Price with all the remembered contempt of their school days. He had always resented Henry Price's easy grace and charming manner. His ability to make friends and assured position in society. But nothing of that showed in his manner when he spoke of a thoroughly fictitious friendship of long standing between himself and Price to those who were curious enough to wonder at the connection of their much loved neighbour and the dashing naval officer. The neighbourhood was favourably impressed with Captain Wexler and he began to receive invitations which he was not behind in accepting once he realised the pleasantness of his situation. His wounded pride and embittered hatred of one Jason Stackhouse, Esquire, answered well to the soothing balm of social prominence in a small district.

The older personages offered him warm welcome and courteous deference in view of his patriotic calling. If his manner seemed at times somewhat arrogant and his glance a little cold, it was put down to an admirable reserve for a gentleman still in his thirties. The young gentlemen fawned over him and lapped up any farrago about the sea life that he chose to spin for them. At first taken by surprise by the younger set's interest, Wexler adjusted quickly to the unfamiliar role of hero. It amused him to see how far he could lead on those he thought of as stupid, thick-headed bumpkins with the most outrageous tales that he could possibly contrive.

As for the young ladies, they gazed upon him with adulation and shy invitation. Looking about him with the cold calculating eyes of a bird of prey, Wexler speculated that he could easily manage to bed a goodly number of the ripe little creatures before his exile was done. The very thought was mildly erotic and he tightened his arm about the neat waist of the maiden he danced with. She gasped faintly in surprise. Her eyes swiftly met his, then dropped as soft colour rose to her cheeks. Wexler smiled. _It might be that I would begin tasting the fruits of the district that very evening_, he thought. He began to calculate how he could maneuver his timid little dove into the garden for what he intended to be a very pleasant interlude.

Then he chanced a glance across the dance floor and all thought of seduction was driven from his head.

'My God!' he breathed.

The young lady that he partnered looked around to discover the cause of the gentleman's violent exclamation. Her pretty face lengthened when she saw that the neighbourhood's acknowledged beauty had arrived, late as usual.

Miss Clara Elizabeth Price, on the arm of her brother Henry, paused just inside the doorway of the ballroom and allowed her glance to slowly scan the company. Henry lowered his head and whispered something in his sister's ear and for a second only, her eyes stopped on Captain Wexler, then her gaze swept on. She was looking for the Marquess of Huntley's unmistakable figure, but he was not to be found. A frisson of irritation ruffled her composure. _How dare his lordship not be present when I make my entrance_, she seethed. It did not immediately occur to her that it would have been unseemly for Lord Northman to attend a full-fledged ball whilst in mourning.

Miss Price knew that she had created a sensation and accepted it as her due. She had been staying with her aunt in Town for the Season and had arrived back at Rookery House sometime after luncheon. She had decided not to venture from her rooms, choosing instead to rest and prepare for her evening. Her brother, being ever the gentleman, delayed his arrival to the ball in order to accompany his sister, sending Captain Wexler ahead. As a result, the celebrated beauty had yet to meet her much admired house guest.

Miss Price acknowledged the profuse greetings of her court and deigned to accept the invitation of one of the gentlemen who rushed toward her as though they were of one mind.

'Who is that exquisite creature?' asked Captain Wexler of his partner, his eyes still on the incredible beauty.

The young lady gazed miserably at one of the large shining brass buttons on his coat. 'That is Miss Clara Elizabeth Price, the sister of your gracious host, Mr. Henry Price.'

'Ah,' said Captain Wexler. 'Indeed. She has been absent these past months. I have not yet had the pleasure of an introduction.'

'Should – should you like to meet her?' asked the young lady. Civility demanded that she make the offer, but she felt as though she would really rather cut her heart out instead. It was so very frustrating to have all one's chances with the eligible gentlemen fly out the window whenever Clara Elizabeth Price happened to float into view. It was the burning hope in the breast of every young lady in the district that Miss Price would soon be discovered by some old earl or other and be whisked off, leaving her rivals from childhood to at last enjoy their own small triumphs.

Wexler hesitated. All his inclinations urged him to go at once to Henry and demand an introduction, but the way Miss Price had made her entrance, her haughty carriage, the arrogant expression in her eyes when they had briefly met his own, told him that to introduce himself now would be a fatal error. In that single glance, he had perceived far more about Miss Price than she would have liked anyone to know. Wexler had immediately recognised the total self-assurance of a young woman who had never been refused. Miss Price had but to crook her little finger for a score of gentlemen to kneel before her feet, panting to satisfy her least whim.

Wexler thought it would suit his purposes far better if he were to hold himself aloof. Such a one as Miss Price would not be able to resist any hint of disregard. She would come to him, as surely as the moth flies to the candle flame. Wexler wanted her. And he meant to have her. Wexler could hardly bear the ache in him at the thought of the pleasure to come and that she would be sleeping under the same roof as he, made it all the more sweeter. But he made the almost herculean effort necessary to control his instinctive desire to go to the beauteous Miss Price's side.

Deliberately, he smiled down into the young lady's eyes. 'It would be vastly rude of me to rush away just upon the entrance of another lady. Do you not think?'

The young lady's soft pink mouth formed a soundless 'oh'. Her drooping expression lightened magically. 'I should like a lemonade, Captain Wexler, if you would be so kind,' she said happily.

'Of course.' Captain Wexler leisurely escorted his partner across to the refreshment table. He glanced down at her, his eyes now critical where before he had seen only fresh loveliness waiting to be harvested. The girl's figure was still slight, her small rounded bosom yet immature. Her bubbling giggle, before so charmingly virginal, now fell on his ear with irritating childishness. He found that he had no desire to take her into the garden. His desire was directed at quite another target, one of lush and smouldering passions, if he did not mistake the matter. His thoughts dwelled on Miss Price and his thin lips curled. _Miss Price would be well worth the effort_, he thought.

That evening became something of an occasion. After Captain Wexler had escorted her back to the protection of her beaming mama, the young lady lost little time in recounting the extraordinary event that had just taken place. A gentleman had actually declined the honour of an introduction to Miss Clara Elizabeth Price. Instead, he had finished out his set with one of Miss Price's rivals and from thence had gone on to request the honour of leading out still another young lady. The story swiftly made the rounds and soon the room was filled with low exclamations of wonder and amazement.

It was not long before the tale reached Miss Price's exquisite ears. At first she was inclined to dismiss it as so much nonsense. No gentleman would dare behave in such a cavalier manner as that toward herself. But as evening wore on and Captain Wexler never did present himself to her, nor had her brother made any effort to bring off an introduction, she was forced to realise that a gentleman had so dared. Her temper was not of the best and it was further exacerbated by the glances of malicious amusement that were thrown her way. Miss Price was vexed to discover that she had actually dug furrows in her palms with her long shapely nails.

One of the Stuart girls, a squint-eyed freckled creature whom Miss Price had always contemptuously brushed aside as no rival at all, had the audacity to approach her.

'Isn't it a marvelous evening, Clara? Captain Wexler is such a handsome gentleman and so chivalrous, too! Why, he has stood up with me three times this evening. And I am not the only lady so honoured. I am in a positive whirl, I assure you, and so is every lady here, who has had the pleasure of his company,' said Penny, enjoying herself hugely. She had longed for ages for the chance to set down the odious Clara Elizabeth and at last her dreamed-of opportunity had come. Her voice, never at any time fashionably low, carried quite clearly and her comments were widely heard.

There was a laugh, quickly changed to a cough, but Miss Price's hearing was acute. She trembled with rage. Her lovely mouth stretched into a gracious smile. 'Indeed, Penny. One must certainly wonder at it. There are not many gentleman who have such a high tolerance for self-inflicted boredom,' she said.

Penny's green eyes narrowed and the temper bespoken by her carroty hair flashed out with devastating accuracy. 'It has not gone unnoticed that Captain Wexler has yet to lead out yourself, Miss High-and-Mighty! Perhaps he draws the line at selfish, haughty butterflies.' She swept away with a giddy feeling of sublime and long-anticipated retribution.

Miss Price stood alone. She was aware that the exchange between herself and Penelope Stuart had been listened to with malicious interest. Even the gentlemen who counted themselves honoured members of her loyal court were not above enjoying her discomfiture. She had ruled too haughtily and too capriciously for it to be otherwise. Of course the incident would soon be forgotten by the gentlemen and there would be no change in their adoration. But for Miss Price, there would always be a raw memory of public humiliation.

Her eyes stared daggers at Penelope Stuart's back and she vowed revenge, but she found that the majority of her anger was directed at Captain Barnard Wexler. He had been the engineer of her humiliation. He had dared to ignore her, Clara Elizabeth Price, the toasted beauty of the district. He would soon learn an excruciating lesson in manners.

_Before I am done he will crawl on his knees and beg for my favour_, she thought vengefully.

Captain Wexler's avoidance of the beauty grew too marked to be ignored. When she could not bear any longer the titters and cattish glances directed her way, Miss Price made an abrupt exit from the dance, citing a migraine. But even the most devoted of her beaux was not behind in giving his opinion that she was in a towering rage.

Miss Price, indeed, went home and threw a spectacular tantrum that reduced the household staff to abject misery. Her brother Henry toed the broken vase which had once stood proudly in the large hall of the stately home.

He said bitterly to Captain Wexler, 'I will be the happiest fellow alive when she marries away from Rookery House.' He was glumly aware that he himself could not look about for a bride until his sister was out of the manor. He had quite admired the beautiful American cousin of Mrs. Savoy's, Miss Susannah Stackhouse. He'd found her graceful and charming – the perfect choice for a wealthy country squire. But any wife of his would be no match for Clara Elizabeth when she was at her worst. 'I had hoped that the Marquess of Huntley would be taken with her and make an offer,' continued Henry Price.

'The Marquess of Huntley?' enquired Captain Wexler. 'I was not aware that his lordship resided in this district.' Captain Wexler was intrigued by this news. The Marquess of Huntley had quite the reputation in Town for his carousing and close relationship with the Prince Regent. His conquests were legendary and many. If Captain Wexler had access to the kind of wealth and society the marquess enjoyed, he would never venture from London.

'Indeed not, sir,' said Mr. Price. 'He is the brother of Lieutenant Remy Savoy of Hardgrove Chase. The captain died by Boney's wretched blade several months ago. The marquess has been visiting with his sister-in-law and young nephew. Since his brother's death, he has become somewhat of a permanent fixture at the Chase. The whole family is in mourning, including Mrs. Savoy's cousin who is visiting from America. Perhaps when the mourning period has ended, an introduction can be made,' Henry remarked as they stepped into the billiards room for their evening port and cigars.

Unbeknownst to the gentlemen, Clara Elizabeth sat listening quietly at the top of the stairs. At the mention of Miss Stackhouse, Miss Price remembered her vow to ruin the colonial. She still seethed with rage when she thought back to the evening she met Miss Stackhouse, her hand gripping the railing of the stair tightly. _I will crush her, just like Captain Wexler, she will learn that no one bests Clara Elizabeth Price! The Marquess of Huntley will be mine._

And then,as if a fog had lifted, Miss Price struck upon a plan. The door to the billards room opened and Captain Wexler and Henry Price stepped out into the hall. At the sight of Captain Wexler's handsome form, Miss Price smiled to herself and a malevolent gleam shone in her eyes.

_Oh yes, I shall crush her… and I know just the weapon to use…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>So no Sookie or Eric, but OMG! What's the evil b***ch going to do, I wonder... Discuss!<strong>  
><em>


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